


There Is Nothing Lost

by mysticalpapaya



Category: Sense and Sensibility (1995), Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: Drama, Eventual Sex, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Love, Regency Romance, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-27 18:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15030335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticalpapaya/pseuds/mysticalpapaya
Summary: As Marianne recovers from her fever and broken heart, she and Colonel Brandon are beginning to understand one another and perhaps a bit more...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, it's happening.  
> This project is very close to my heart as it is my favourite of Alan Rickman's roles and one of my most treasured books. With that said I pull from the book and 1995 film for this fanfiction as I love them both very much, the characters are as they are in the movie. This story itself is mostly romance and fluff, with some elements of drama but nothing too intense.  
> My first attempt writing anything historical so please cut me some slack :)

“Shall we continue tomorrow?”

“No,” he paused eyeing her reaction secretly, “for I must away.”

“Away? Where?” That could have been an impertinent question of Marianne but by the way, his eyes lit up as she said it, seemingly he did not care.

“That I cannot tell you, it is a secret.” There was a sparkle in his eyes that she had only recently known existed. As they spent more and more time in each others company, she had come to adore it. This moment was no exception, she couldn't help the smile that came to her lips.

“You will not stay away long?” He frequently went on trips for business or other, and it made her anxious whenever he did.

He shook his head swiftly, smiling timidly at her, she returned his smile with a shy one of her own. If he must go, at least it would be quick.

Bracing hands on either knee Colonel Brandon stood, brushing any wrinkles that had appeared on his clothing away.

“Would you like me to assist you back to the house?” He held a hand out, his face a mask of neutral as it usually was. Ever careful.

“Thank you, Colonel, but no, I think I shall soak up a bit more sun before returning to my prison.” She teased.

“Very well, I will take my leave of you.” There was a definite reluctance there, she felt it too. “Soon you will not be confined to the cottage Miss Marianne, give it a bit of time, and you will have the freedom you pine  for.”

Marianne felt as though her heart might burst from the emotions coursing through it at that moment. The Colonel stood there looking at her with concern and almost tangible anguish for her discomfort in being cooped up in her home. When she had mentioned the rather small and insignificant struggle she had of still recovering from her illness, she had seen his demeanour change instantly to concern and aid.

Even after all the time she had spent ignoring him, spewing nasty remarks that Willoughby had placed in her mind or even using him as a way to dislike Mrs Jennings all the more. Pretending he didn’t have real emotion as she, that he was boring, how wrong she was.

Colonel Brandon had saved her when she had been so foolish. Then proceeded to stay, make sure she had everything, including her mother. Now reading to her, keeping her sanity along with her health, treating her as a friend, a friend Marianne did not deserve.

Just last night Elinor had asked Marianne how she felt about the Colonel. Marianne broke down into a fit of tears, for, of course, she had begun to fall deeply in love with him. It felt that she was powerless to stall the intensity of her heart. That again was ridiculous, he should have someone so much more worthy, and how could he feel the same for her after all that she had done… all that she had put him through.

The fact that he was her friend was in itself a miracle. She needed to sincerely apologise but at the right time, with the right words. Since being back at the cottage, she had found the Colonel to be just as invested in literature as she, he felt it as she did. Because of this Marianne must say her regrets with enough feeling and honesty to hope that in return he may continue to spend time near her and possibly forgive her.

Marianne was dragged back to the present by the sound of Colonel Brandon's boot scraping the soil, and she quickly replied to his kind encouragement of her current state. “Yes, until that time that I am to be more unrestricted, I am thankful you wish to put up with me.”

The Colonel narrowed his eyes a bit in confusion but gave another polite smile. “It is my absolute pleasure.” Placing his hat on and waving to Elinor and Mrs Dashwood just through the window, he began the small decent to his horse.

…

The next few days were absolutely wonderful.

Early one morning just as Marianne and Elinor were coming down for breakfast, a very large carriage arrived, with a substantial item inside. Marianne nearly fainted when they uncovered it and placed the brand-new pianoforte in the parlour of the cottage.

When all was settled a letter was placed in her mother’s hand, and Margret was bouncing nearby trying to ascertain who this magnificent gift could be from.

Colonel Brandon had sent it, with music for her to learn. When her mother finished reading the note, Marianne couldn’t speak and nearly burst into tears right then. She must tell him how deeply sorry she was.

...

Marianne could scarcely pull herself away from the instrument to sleep and when her mother called that someone was riding near Marianne felt her heart beat faster. When realising that it was Edward a fear had taken over her heart, for her sister and though she hated to admit something so selfish. She was quite disappointed it wasn’t the Colonel.

Then it all seemed like a dream, Edward telling them that he was not married, then seeing them exit the cottage so happily and together. Marianne felt tears rolling down her cheeks, how fervently she wanted her sister’s happiness, what a beautiful day.

Edward stayed for dinner that evening, and once things were winding down, Marianne realised that the Colonel had never arrived. Her chest tightened, undoubtedly it was business detaining him or weather. If she dwelt on other less savoury reasons, she would not be able to suffer the night. Instead, she would excuse herself to bed earlier and read for some time.

“Mamma, I think I will retire for the night, I am feeling a little under the weather.”

Her mother looked startled, “do we need to call for the doctor?”

“No, no just a little extra rest this evening will do,” she then turned to Elinor and Edward, “I am so happy for the two of you.” Kissing Elinor on the cheek, she made her way upstairs to bed. Hoping the next day would bring Colonel Brandon.

…

The sun had begun to set when the sound of hoof beats finally reached Marianne’s ears from her place facing the window, seated at the pianoforte. She sighed it must be Edward, the Colonel never came late as it would be challenging to ride back to Deleford in the dark. Edward had said he was meeting with the Colonel to speak with him about the parish, but since the home, he was to reside in was not yet sorted, Sir John had offered him to stay at the park if he liked. It allowed him to visit Elinor often.

Marianne had felt the unpleasant emotion of jealousy when Edward received the note from the Colonel to meet at Deleford that day. He still had not sent any idea of when he would come to the cottage nor had he appeared. Marianne was confident that this was it, he had come to his senses and realised that being around her was of no use to him than listening to a tiring young girl talk of books and music.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she thought this, the music in front of her was swimming, so she stood. Some fresh air may be what she needed, she would meet Edward and stop feeling sorry for herself. Stepping outside the front garden was still lit by the dying sun, wiping away an errant tear she glanced up, Colonel Brandon came to stand before her Edward walking swiftly behind him.

“Oh,” was all she seemed to be able to mutter, the Colonel’s look of subtle joy had turned to one of concern when he looked her over.

“Miss Marianne, are you not well?”

Marianne saw his hand twitch at his side as if he had meant to reach out to her. “I am quite well, I was just… reading a rather moving passage, please would you like to come in?”

He nodded and realised that unbeknownst to them Edward had already entered not doubt in search of Elinor. When they were both seated in the empty parlour, she finally dared to look up at him.

“Colonel Brandon, the pianoforte… I… thank you though you must know it is too much, I deserve nothing of the like.” Her words were far from eloquent, but he had taken her off guard in his coming at this time and seeing her in such a vulnerable state.

“You deserve far more, please think nothing of it you need to nurture the skill you possess.” He was looking at her with such fondness, maybe her feelings were not so fruitless.

“Colonel Brandon!”

Elinor’s voice startled the pair seated, the Colonel quickly got to his feet as the eldest sister entered, their mother and Edward close behind, Margret was already in bed for the evening.

“Miss Dashwood, may I offer my congratulations to you.” His deep voice resonated in the room making Marianne feel nearly faint, what on earth was coming over her.

“Thank you and thank you for the lovely gift you have bestowed upon the family… Marianne has barely left the stool, and we are so happy to have music in the house again.”

“Please, it was my pleasure, now that I have seen Edward here, I must take my leave to Barton Park for Sir John, and I have business to attend.” He tipped his head to Mrs Dashwood and the rest of the party heading for the door.

Marianne’s heart that had lifted with such hope plummeted. He had barely said two words to her. Elinor saw this exchange and when the Colonel’s back was turned to leave, jerked her head towards the door, so Marianne could see. Marianne took the hint and followed him out calling to him it was now or never to apologise. “Colonel Brandon?”

He turned swiftly striding back to her now a few yards from the cottage. “Yes, Miss Marianne?” He looked stricken, oh no she was causing him to be late how could she be so foolish?

“I… I am sorry, you need to leave, it is not so important that it cannot wait.” She wrung her hands nervously but forced a bright smile. “Good evening Colonel, I hope that you make your way to the Park safe and that… that you will visit again if just to see the family.” Then she turned quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears forming yet again in her eyes.

Colonel Brandon watched her walk away from him and didn’t know what to do. He and Sir John were planning a ball at Barton, and they needed the last shreds of daylight to ascertain a few things. But there was something with Marianne today, she seemed worried at the very least off from her usual self. Had she seemed sad to him? He must find out why next time he see’s her, for the last thing he ever wanted was her unhappy especially when she had been warming to him he thought even perhaps enjoying their time together.

...

A note arrived the next morning to the cottage inviting them all to a ball at Barton. Hmmm thought Marianne as she stood in front of her armoire to pick a dress for the occasion, maybe that was the reason he had left in such a hurry. No doubt Sir John was needing his help in preparing for the gathering. Yes, that was it, maybe at the ball, there would be a moment that she could speak with him, she had to hope, or she may well go mad.…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you the ball! XOXO

 As they entered the house, Marianne didn’t think she had ever seen Elinor look so happy to be at a gathering of the like. It had always been herself that fancied beautiful rooms full of dancing and gowns, an engagement was turning out to be very well for Elinor. The love she and Edward shared, gave her a certain confidence that before had lain dormant.

Mrs Jennings was the first to greet them all in a fuss about Edward and Elinor. Marianne tried her best to be polite and listen along with the rest, but she couldn’t help scanning the large crowds for Colonel Brandon, unfortunately to no avail.

“Miss Marianne are you quite well?” Mrs Jennings distinctive voice floated into her consciences.

“Oh, yes, I was just admiring the room.” She felt a small nudge from Elinor, glancing up Marianne saw that her sister was looking past the elaborate decoration to a wall near the other side. The Colonel was being introduced it seemed to someone’s daughter, and Sir John was giving him a slap of good humour on the back, no doubt boasting to the girl of the Colonel's many desirable qualities. Colonel Brandon was smiling pleasantly as usual, and Marianne looked away quickly and down at her attire and touched her hair to see if it was still in place.

She wore a peach coloured gown that she and Elinor had recently added beautiful stitching to, but it was far from new. There could no doubt that she still looked pale from her illness… oh, maybe she shouldn’t have come. She felt nervous and awkward after all that had occured at the last ball she attended.

“Marianne would you walk with me to ascertain a drink?” Elinor was coming to her self-deprecating rescue.

Marianne followed her to a quieter part of the room, still looking stricken. “I… oh Elinor, I haven’t an idea what to do, you’d think I would have the ability to rein in my emotions after all that has passed.”

Elinor chuckled, “dearest, this is an instance where keeping your emotions to yourself will not aid you.” They both looked to the place where the Colonel had been and saw that he was now leaning against the wall alone a pleasant but neutral smile tugging at his lips. “Go, you love parties, and the company in that direction I have no doubt will be very rivetting.”

Marianne rolled her eyes at Elinor’s statement but did as she was bid. Walking with intention, to stand in front of Colonel Brandon. “How are you this evening, Colonel?”

His lips curved up at the sight of her, standing a bit straighter and bowing “very well, and you Miss Marianne?”

“Good, this… it’s…” she was stuttering over her words now? What was next losing her taste for poetry?

“A very nice evening, indeed,” there was a hint of humour in his eyes. She couldn’t help but find his words stilted, they had become used to conversing more freely, and she so craved that.

There was a small silence in which Marianne could tell he was feeling somewhat uncomfortable. She had to say something quickly, or he would find a polite reason to excuse himself, and she wouldn’t know what the matter was. “I… Colonel Brandon… why haven’t you been to call?”

His eyes widened, startled at such a bold question. “I…”

a hand came to her forehead in embarrassment partially covering her eyes. “I am sorry that was a blunt thing to ask, forgive me.” Her head drooped a little, “I allow my words to proceed my judgment too often.”

“No, I should be the one apologising, whilst helping Sir John prepare this and then business,” he paused and seemed to decide. “No that isn’t really the reason, I didn’t want to impose.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, “really? That’s all?”

“Er yes.” That wasn't all. He did not want to impose or her to get bored of his presence or to have her grow distant to him again when she found a younger man.

“Oh, well what I mean is that you could never impose on me-us. I, I thought that perhaps I had offended you.”

His eyebrows knitted together at her words, then his mouth turned up in the corner, “there is little you could do that would offend me, Miss Marianne.”

“Good… good in that case, would you like to take a turn in the garden? I assume it is prepared for guests?”

The Colonel seemed a little surprised by her request but nodded, “yes, it is.”

They made their way outside to Sir John’s lavish gardens that in light of the evening had been lit up by beautiful lanterns. They were not alone outside, which appealed to propriety. There were several other guests around but as they began to walk Marianne felt that they were still able to talk privately.

“I…I find that there is something that I have long since needed to say to you, Colonel.” She glanced up as he looked on a little perplexed.

“Indeed?” His eyebrow raised, hazel eyes shining down at her in the soft light.

She took a deep breath, “I am sorry.” When she looked up at him, his eyebrows were further drawn together in consternation. “I treated you with a manner that I am truly ashamed of, it was foolish and immature.”

“Miss Marianne-.” He tried to interrupt, but she continued, hoping he would forgive her yet again for her impertinence in stopping his words.

“Please listen, I cannot go on without telling you how horrid I feel about all of it. You have been nothing but kind since the very moment that I met you and… oh”tears were forming in her eyes, he quickly produced a handkerchief for her. “After all of this madness with Willoughby… you, you have continued to treat me with civility and dare I say affection when I am so un-warranting of it.” In a moment of boldness, she took one of his hands sniffling, “Colonel Brandon, could you? I mean is it too much to hope that perhaps in the future you could come to forgive me and possibly even think of me as something other than a silly young girl?”

Brandon stared down at his hand clasped in hers and felt his heart pound, she could’ve done far worse, and he would’ve forgiven her without a second thought. And in the past time they had spent together, he saw real changes form in her manner and mentality, this experience had indeed altered Marianne Dashwood for the better. Here she was, tears in her eyes looking as if she could break if he said the slightest harsh word against her declaration. “There is nothing to apologise for… I have long since forgiven for any of it.”

She choked a little cry, covering her mouth quickly and smiling. “Oh, thank you, I do not deserve your friendship.” Marianne had the oddest urge to throw her arms about his shoulders… if only he could think of her as more than a friend. Instead, she just beamed at him wiping away her tears, taking in yet again how incredible he looked tonight dressed in a dark blue waistcoat with silver buttons.

“Nonsense. It is getting a bit cool, shall we re-enter the house, no doubt Mrs Jennings will be wondering where we are and if she has reason to gossip.” He gave her a small smile, and they walked toward the door Marianne finally releasing his hand. Both internally mourning the loss of touch.

…

“Marianne?” Elinor was waiting when they returned, looking somewhat anxious.

“I hope that our walk has not worried you, Miss Dashwood, I assure you, your sister was quite safe, and the air is not so cold,” Brandon said to Elinor.

“No, Colonel of course not, it is just,” she turned to Marianne, “John and Fanny are here…I just wanted you to be aware; apparently, Mrs Jennings invited them.”

Marianne had no wish to see her stepbrother or his horrible wife. If she were honest the thought made her a little lightheaded, but her sister mustn’t worry, Marianne had given her enough grief in the past few months. “Oh, Elinor I shall be fine; hopefully they will stay preoccupied.”

“I fear that Fanny has already asked of you dearest, hold your head high there is no reason you should feel shame,” Elinor placed her arm within her sister’s in comfort. This idea of civility was utterly ridiculous Marianne had thought many a time that it shouldn't be necessary for her to be kind to people that never gave her the same courtesy.

Marianne sighed softly, “you know I have much to be ashamed of Elinor… Colonel Brandon?”

“Yes,” he had been listening patiently hands clasped firmly behind his back.

“Would you accompany us? If you have the time, I feel that it may ease my worry having you near.”

“Of course, I am at your disposal.”

The three moved toward the group across the room, the loud voice of Mrs Jennings drawing them closer. Marianne was looking to the ground doing her best to collect herself, so she didn’t see what Elinor did on the Colonel’s face. It was a kind of subtle happiness at being the source that brought her sister relief and contentment in any form.

“Ah Miss Marianne, there you are,” Fanny’s shrill voice made Marianne want to roll her eyes in plain view.

“How are you, Fanny?”

“Very well, John and I are expecting another little one soon.” Only this woman could make news of bearing a child sound far from joyful to Marianne, or more like winning some kind of prize.

“Indeed? Congratulations.” Forcing a pleasant smile, her stepbrother who stood behind grinned stupidly.

“Yes, we are very excited.”

As Fanny turned away and began chatting animatedly with her mother and Elinor, nearly shunning Marianne. She could tell that Edward looked vastly uncomfortable his sister barely addressing him with a look, then again it was rare that Edward did not seem nervous. When he caught her eye and smiled slightly, she could tell that his disposition was no different from usual. How her sister could spend the rest of her life with such a timid and passionless person, Marianne would never know.

This thought made her look to Colonel Brandon standing near her holding his drink in hand. She could tell that the conversations were not ones that he found great interest in but even just standing there you could see that he had confidence within himself. He was humble and polite no doubt, but there was a sense of self that Edward did not possess it made her heart pound and butterfly’s twirl about in her stomach.

Colonel Brandon felt her eyes on him and turned to meet them. He nearly dropped his glass in shock was he mistaken or had that been affection in her eyes. No, absolutely not. Then again... her cheeks had bloomed with pink the moment she had been caught looking, still his beating heart. Her apology had been enough to keep him filled with joy for months but seeing this… it made him want to confess all his feelings whether it was rational or not.  The sister in law of the woman who now consumed his thoughts spoke breaking his reverie.

“It is a shame then Marianne that you were not able to keep a hold of Mr Willoughby it would’ve been a lovely double wedding.” The snide words fell from the woman’s lips without a second thought and those lips curled up after in a vicious way made the Colonel’s stomach turn. How was it that so many human beings could have want to be so cruel? He would genuinely never understand.

Marianne went pale, no doubt the mention of such a thing in what was supposed to be civil society would make her feel rather awful. Colonel Brandon didn’t know how to aid her. If he were to say something it could be seen as impertinent or a hint at his feelings for her, the last thing he needed was Mrs Jennings scaring her off again with rumours, but he would not allow her to be goaded by this woman either. To hell with propriety and his emotional wellbeing if it meant that he could spare her more pain. The Colonel readied himself to ask her for a dance no matter how terrible he thought he was at the activity, but Marianne spoke.

“How nice it is Fanny that you think the wedding will be lovely, I can say that with the preparation that has already begun that it will be absolutely wonderful. Colonel Brandon is allowing it to take place at Deleford as that is where Edward will soon be residing, it is so beautiful there, I can hardly wait.” It was all delivered with an air of poise and grace that showed the beauty in Marianne's soul, amplifying her outward appearance for all to see.

Elinor was beaming from behind Fanny who looked rather like a fish, and Colonel Brandon and Edward were trying their hardest not to laugh at the stunned look. With that Marianne turned to the Colonel, “I would very much like a drink will you accompany me?”

Brandon nodded offering his arm, trying his best not to grin like a fool. Marianne Dashwood was the strongest woman he had ever met, and she found his home beautiful.

…

After guests began to trickle out and Mrs Jennings was nearly falling asleep in her wine everyone knew it was time to retire. Sir John had insisted that they stay in some of his guest rooms as he wouldn’t hear of them going back so late in the evening. Margret was well taken care of by Betsy, and so they acquiesced with little argument. Marianne was especially happy when she learned that Colonel Brandon would also be staying. She would see him the next day at breakfast! He wished her goodnight before one of the maids collected them.

Elinor had been very quick to ask about what she and the Colonel had talked about, and Marianne could’ve wept again thinking of how utterly accepting he had been when she apologised.

“Did you expect anything else?” Elinor had asked.

“Yes! … well, I don’t know, no doubt he still thinks I am the silliest girl in all the world, but at least he has the decorum not to show me that he feels this way about me. I believe that is something... well more than something to give him credit for, he really thinks about those around him and their feelings. How what he says makes them feel,” she was babbling. 

“Good heavens, Marianne!” Elinor who rarely raised her voice startled her sister, “he loves you, dear, truly and I can tell that your feelings are also very strong, what is the point in making yourself so blind to it all, unless you are still overly concerned about his alleged frailness?” Elinor was actually smirking.

This took Marianne by utter and complete surprise, her usually so mild and considerate sister was gaining a wild streak from finding love. To jest of her own past horrible comments, goodness.

"He carried you over a hill and further at Cleveland I believe that worry is well sorted," Elinor chuckled, and Marianne blushed, sighing softly.

“I don’t know, even if what you say of his feelings is true how would you propose I make that apparent without embarrassing myself or him?"

That seemed to knock the wind from Elinor’s blustering sails, “indeed I shall have to think on that one… begin to subtly show how you feel, you’re supposed to be the romantic one.”

Flopping down on the mattress Marianne let out a long breath, she may be awake for a few hours now, thinking it all over.

…

Sir John and Colonel Brandon sat in the study finishing up some brandy. Edward who had joined them at first had long since retired, and the Colonel was about to suggest doing the same when John spoke. “Could you please see sense and ask Miss Marianne to be your wife, man?”

“John…”

“No Brandon listen to me, I watched the two of you tonight, it was back and forth, she would look at you when you weren’t looking at her, and then you would trade her. It went on, and on the whole night, you both are skirting around what you feel for the sake of not wanting to upset the other, and it is of no use! The both of you will be my age before you get anywhere.” You had to give the older man credit for his candour, as usual, he was not afraid to say it just how he saw it.

The Colonel was silent. Was John right? Could he have such a chance? Was he wasting precious time that could be spent with her?

“The garden has a beautiful bench just near the stream, that would be a lovely place…”

“I shall think on it, thank you, John.” Colonel Brandon stood, swallowing his last bit of brandy and leaving for his room, much on his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have most of this story already written so I will be posting this weekly most likely :) Thanks for the comments and kudos!   
> XOXO

The next morning Marianne woke resigned to try her best to show Colonel Brandon in the most appropriate way possible that she was very much taken with him. How odd a thought it was after having for so long thought him dull and without spirit. That now she could hang on his every word, he felt everything so deeply and was able to express it, unlike anyone she had ever met. How very very wrong she had been about him.

When she and Elinor were ready and making their way down to breakfast later in the morning as everyone had slept a bit longer, Marianne could feel her stomach flipping. She wished nothing more than to see the Colonel in the morning and before bed for the rest of her life, she felt that from the bottom of her heart. As bold of an idea it was, everything about it felt just right in her mind, though perhaps she shouldn't be thinking such things about him, when really she did not know of a surety that he felt for her anything similar.  As they entered the dining room, Edward greeted his fiancé, a bit awkward and of course, cordially Marianne had to look at the ground and blink tears away at such a simple gesture of affection.

Willoughby had been a whirlwind. Too much of this and far too little of that and at the heart of it wrong, he had been wrong. Marianne wasn’t fit for him, it was very good that she was able to find such a thing out even if it was far too late. It made her feel for the Colonel's poor Eliza and everything that had come of Willoughby's offensive actions.

Looking about the room Marianne’s heart sank when she saw that the dining table was missing the Colonel and her mother oddly enough. Maybe he was left earlier to Deleford? The wedding being spurred on rather quickly was only a week away, and there would no doubt be preparations to be made.

“Where is Mama?” Marianne asked the general populace in the room, hoping someone would know.

One of the maids spoke up near the doors, “Mrs Dashwood and Colonel Brandon are in the library, they requested that you start without them and they would join you shortly.”

Mrs Jennings grinned at Elinor, “the wedding no doubt, the Colonel is so very kind to host it there.”

A weight lifted from Marianne’s shoulders, he was still here. She then resigned herself to eating and only tuning in occasionally to the conversation. She certainly didn’t notice the sly smirk that Sir John had sent her way.

…

The Colonel and Mrs Dashwood made their way to the breakfast room both trying not to let their smiles show too much. He had asked her for permission to propose to Marianne, and she had to his relief given him a hearty yes. He was walking on a cloud at least for the moment as he was able to pretend that Marianne would accept his proposal. When they reached the table, and he laid eyes on Marianne, his nerves became so much more pronounced all he could do was sip carefully at some tea. John giving him pointed looks the whole time which he dutifully ignored.

“I think it is a fine day for a picnic! What says the group?” Sir John grinned widely when everyone murmured yes’s. “Good, good I will send the carriage for Miss Margret after we finish breakfast, whilst we wait, feel free to go about the grounds or have run of the library.”

Marianne smiled to herself, a picnic meant that she would indeed get to spend much time with the Colonel even if it was across rooms or gardens, he would be there. He had eaten very little at breakfast she noticed and wondered to herself if the wedding had him feeling a bit anxious as well. There must be very much he needed to attend to, and he would never tell anyone of any burden it was she knew. He was far too kind for that.

Marianne was also very excited for her sister, and even if she thought him a bit boring she had also seen Edward's actual merit, there was much to be seen. It was a little stressful in its own right for the Dashwoods, through the Colonel's generosity they were able to give Elinor the wedding that she deserved. That meant that many decisions needed to be made and as Elinor did not care much for any of the fuss Marianne was helping her. The ball had been a very nice reprieve, and now Marianne was again feeling the effects of their efforts.

Her fever had already left her weak and though she would never say a word to anyone. She had been getting headaches and pains, no doubt from lingering sickness within her. It wasn't all that bad, and she decided it must be her body healing from such an endeavour, it would go away soon.

…

Marianne had never been able to honestly look around the library at Barton Park, so today whilst they waited for her little sister and all arrangements for the picnic were made, she decided that it would distract her from the Colonel. He and Sir John had disappeared into the study after breakfast just as she was about to ask him if he would like to accompany her on a walk.

She had tried to get his attention and thought she had caught his eye when he and Sir John left rather abruptly. It had stumped her, for she knew not if they would have another moment to be alone before the picnic.

“Marianne?” Elinor’s voice was behind her, “Mrs Jennings made the very kind offer to pay to have new dresses made for yourself and Margaret to wear at the wedding, do you have a preference on colour?”

“It is your wedding Elinor,” Marianne did not look up from her the book she was inspecting, to the open doorway where Elinor stood, “whatever colour would suit your day would be fine for me.” There was that pain coming up behind her eyes again, such an annoyance made her feel a bit cross, though she needn't be.

“But dearest, I want you to be comfortable in it.”

“What colour did you have in mind?” she replaced the book and picked out another one studying the spine, they were beautiful copies, almost as beautiful as the ones she had seen briefly at the Deleford library.

Elinor sighed, “a sage green was what I had in mind.”

“Perfect.”

“Marianne, what is the matter?”

Marianne drummed her fingers on the spines of the books as she contemplated what to tell Elinor. “I believe that Colonel Brandon may be avoiding me… After I apologised last night, I thought that… then you and I spoke... but I suppose-.”

“Colonel Brandon!” Elinor turned quickly to see the Colonel stepping into the library no doubt having heard Marianne’s statement. She also turned and was now eyeing the floor very firmly, her face hot with embarrassment. How dramatic she must now seem.

He eyed the women a little stiffly, “I was wondering Miss Marianne if it were possible that I might speak to you?”

Glancing up she nodded trying to save her dignity. “Yes, yes of course. Elinor the green really will be perfect.”

Elinor smiled and exited the library careful to let the door shut almost all the way.

When they were alone, it was the Colonel who spoke first, stepping a little closer. “I have no wish to avoid you, Miss Marianne, truly, I am sorry that you felt that was the case.”

She looked up and walked closer to him trying to smile through her embarrassment, “no Colonel, you are a busy man and no doubt I was allowing myself to be selfish yet again.”

“You are quite the opposite of selfish Miss Marianne, I don’t believe there is anything that I appreciate so much as I do your company.” His smile was not so guarded as usual.

“Flattery” she jested allowing a hand to graze the books nearest her. “What is that you needed to speak with me about?” She hoped that he wasn’t telling her he would be going away soon, that would surely put her in a foul mood for however long it was that he would be gone.

Colonel Brandon removed his hands from behind his back, wiping them discreetly on his coat. “Miss Mar- would you like to sit?” he gestured to the sofa placed near one of the many reading tables.

“I am alright… but I thank you.” Her brow furrowed in confusion at the out of the blue request.

“Right, yes of course… Miss… Marianne I… I hope that I have made it plain that I appreciate your friendship and it brings me very much joy.”

“Indeed, you have Colonel I feel very much the same or at least I hope that I have given that impression.”

He nodded, and Marianne could tell that there was something he was not saying, something that was on his mind, he never acted so nervously.

“Colonel, are you well?”

“Yes, I am sorry I seem to be making a fool of myself,” straightening his shoulders and looking her in the eyes he reached out to take one of her hands… it was now or not at all. Her eyes went wide as he dropped to a knee before her, one of his large hands still gripping her smaller one. “Marianne at the risk of sounding mad… I wish to tell you how much that I love you.” Colonel Brandon saw her blink and his heart twisted, there was no use for it now he had to continue. “For far longer than I care to admit you have consumed my near every thought I wish for nothing more than to bring you happiness for the rest of my life.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Thanks for reading! xoxo

Marianne felt tears begin to fall from her eyes her free hand covering her mouth in hopes that a sob that had been trying to erupt would not. “Are… you are asking me to marry you?”

“Will you marry me? Be my wife, Marianne?" His eyes bore into hers.

Wrenching her hand from his, she covered her mouth again to muffle that sob that wouldn’t be kept at bay with two hands. She watched as his face fell at her harsh movement, but she couldn’t speak to tell him that was not what she had intended, instead took action. Dropping to her knees also she reached to touch his face all sense of propriety far from her mind. “I love…you…  and yes to the question.” She sobbed next at the look of pure bafflement in his eyes at her answer, had he thought she would refuse? If he had, then it seemed she now had a mission to make sure he knew for the rest of her life that there was nothing she wanted so much as to be with him.

For what seemed like a very long time both of them on the floor facing each other the only sound was that of Marianne’s subsiding cries and the Colonel's deep breathing. When she had quieted and thought her face might split in two from the wideness of her smile, the Colonel began to fumble with his pocket producing the ring that he had no right to have been carrying as long as he had.

“Would you…that is- it is yours if you are sure that you want it.” Opening a small box he revealed a gold band that held a round stone, it was lovely and simple, it made her want to weep again.

“Yes, of course,” she sighed as he placed it on her finger keeping her hand in his, pressing a very tentative kiss to it and then helping her to stand up. How fate had smiled on her this day! “I… Colonel you cannot imagine the happiness that this has given me.”

Looking down at her he smiled a broad smile, “I believe that I can… Marianne.”

His use of her name made the warmth in her chest burn all the fiercer. “I suppose we will have to agree to disagree… Christopher.”

Ever so carefully Colonel Brandon leaned toward her, hoping and praying that she would not pull away… she didn’t. His lips brushed hers ever so lightly, careful not to take too much. She sighed softly, and it took everything he had to pull back and look at her. Her eyes were still closed.

Through the window, Marianne could see that everyone was preparing for the picnic and soon their presence would be missed. “We should go” she murmured softly her face still inches from his.

“Yes, we should," he was gazing at her lips, leaning she met him half-way for another soft kiss.

 After this his grin couldn’t be kept hidden, it burst forth making his face ache from the happiness it was showing.

Marianne smiled back then pursed her lips, thinking. Reaching down she began to pull the ring from her finger and the Colonel’s face blanched, she saw and stopped him placing a hand gently on his chest, shaking her head at him. “I was only thinking... well I thought that perhaps we could keep the news to ourselves for a little longer I wish to enjoy it without questions for now… enjoy it with you.”

Relief poured over him, “when would you propose we tell?”

“At dinner? Or after perhaps in the sitting room, no doubt Sir John will ask us to stay another night and mama won’t say anything I am sure.” 

“Alright,” he took the ring and placed it within the box and in his pocket.

They both left the library giddy with the beautiful secret they both held in their hearts.

…

Exiting the house and joining the others in their usual manner made Marianne want to laugh, so much had changed in such a small amount of time. She gave him an almost shy smile before going to her mother and Elinor both of whom looked suspicious but didn’t say anything.

There were a few new faces in the party, the Colonel knew them as friends of Sir Johns, the Martin’s they only travelled up on infrequent occasions, he had only ever met them once before. It must have been years ago as their son was now much older, a gentleman.

John immediately called him over for a re-introduction. Brandon soon found himself in a polite conversation, even though he wanted very much to go to Marianne who he could tell from across the lawn was to be at the mercy of Mrs Jennings

“Miss Marianne, now that your sister is as well as sold off let’s introduce you to young Mr Martin over there.”

Marianne tried her best not to snap at Mrs Jennings, “oh, I believe that he looks to be having an enjoyable conversation with Colonel Brandon and Edward.” Her betrothed no doubt wished to be left to himself but that was not forthcoming, and he was too polite to object. She made a mental note and decided that every chance she received for the rest of her days she would allow him more comfortable social interactions not forcing him to be around people just for the sake of propriety when he had an evident love of solitude. At the moment there was little she could do partially at her own fault for wanting to keep their joy their own for a while longer.

“Nonsense,” before more objection could be made and with her mother and Elinor deep in their own conversation Marianne was quite nearly hoisted up by Mrs Jennings. “I know you may still feel pain Miss Marianne but finding a new beau will be just the thing.”

Very soon Marianne stood in front of the man in question flushed red at Mrs Jennings comments.

“Mr Martin, this is our very own Miss Marianne Dashwood, you already met her sister who is engaged to Mr Ferrars.” Mrs Jennings clucked out all the names and pleasantries barely taking the time to breathe.

“How do you do Miss Marianne?” Mr Martin bowed, a slight a lopsided smile gracing his dark features, he had deep brown eyes and chiselled complexion, he reminded her very much of Willoughby.

“Very well, thank you Mr Martin, and yourself?” Mrs Jennings had made herself scarce now, and Christopher stood just next to Mr Martin and Edward, his face showing little emotion but his eyes looking nervous.

“I am quite well, I have found Colonel Brandon’s company most interesting.” His voice was smooth, but something was wanting in it, something that her Colonel had.

“Yes, I find it also so.” She smiled at Colonel Brandon, and he turned his lips up in response.

“Do you come to Devonshire often?” Asked Mr Martin.

“Oh, we live here, just at the cottage not so far away.”

“I didn’t realise, forgive my blunder the sun must be getting to me,” he then looked to Brandon. “Colonel Brandon how is it you have such excellent company so close, and yet Sir John tells me you rarely call upon him these days.”

“Colonel Brandon is at Barton quite often,” she realised that she had probably said too much, then again, they would all know at dinner.

“Indeed? How interesting a thing that is.” Mr Martin glanced from Marianne to Colonel Brandon then smiled widely before settling his gaze back on Marianne. “I declare myself joyous that I will be staying awhile in Devon and should have the privilege of your company often Miss Marianne. Excuse me.” He removed himself going to Sir John.

Marianne very much wished to hold the Colonel’s hand but of course, didn’t dare. “Would you like a walk?”

“Very much.”

Marianne met eyes with her mother across the lawn, and her mother nodded her consent for them to go. Colonel Brandon led the way toward a small creek down a bit from the house and away from prying ears.

“How do you like Mr Martin?” then Marianne blushed at her bold question, “what I mean is…” she lost a way to make her question more appealing.

Colonel Brandon stopped her suffering quickly with a small laugh, “do not force pleasantries with me, Marianne, I am far fonder of your courageous nature and unimpeded words.” His heart gave a little leap at the ability to say her given name so freely.

She blushed again, how lucky she was, having a man in her life that respected her thoughts and opinions without thinking of her gender.

Brandon sighed as they continued to stroll, “I think him gentlemanly to appearances, though I have heard some more unsavoury things about his character… He is well acquainted with … Mr Willoughby I have heard, a cousin of the now Mrs Willoughby.”

This made Marianne glance up from where she had been gazing off into a beautiful field nearby. “I see.” How could she respond to that without upsetting herself or this man with her who placed so much care into her wellbeing and happiness over not just recent events but since she had known him?

“Of course, I cannot and would never place a person into bad light based purely on who they are acquainted with.” He added, “but as I said certain things have been mentioned about, though I don’t take gossip as solid evidence.”

“No, I never thought you would, you are far too understanding for that.” She smiled up at him.

“You give me far too much credit.”

Marianne smiled in response knowing that if she tried to argue her point, it would be of no use, he was far to humble ever to admit to his sweetness, or perhaps he didn’t indeed see it as she did.

…

After their walk ended early due to heavy rain that began, they were pulled in separate directions. Mrs Jennings inviting the women into the parlour for tea and cards, while Sir John and the other men went to his study for stronger drinks. As many occasions like this one did, it frustrated Marianne, and Elinor as well. Her sister was far less outspoken about such things, but she too found fault in this odd system of role, based solely upon sex and not disposition. She very much wished to be near her betrothed for the whole of the day.

“Marianne?” Elinor approached her at the window seat watching rain droplets slide down the window pane. “Did you and the Colonel speak earlier? I know you had some concerns.”

“We did, all is well dear sister.” How she wished to tell her, though now that she stopped Christopher from doing so it would be horrid for her to go back on their plan.

Elinor seemed a tad unenthused by this reaction. “I see.” She sat taking place next to Marianne, who now focused on her sister’s quiet conversation. “Mr Martin seems very kind does he not?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I did not speak to him long, but I can see why Sir John enjoys his company, no doubt hunting, dogs, that sort of thing.” Marianne waved a hand in boredom.

Elinor tried to hide a smirk, “perhaps he enjoys poetry also? Or dancing? I believe that Sir John loved having a ball so much he wishes for another.”

“Elinor? Is there a reason you are questioning me so relentlessly about Mr Martin?”

“No, I simply wished to know how you felt about it, you generally have very immediate reactions about people you meet.”

Marianne sighed looking back out the window, “sometimes they are very wrong.”

“Not often, you can be perceptive when you allow feelings to subside and intuition to take the lead,” Elinor touched her sisters hand lovingly.

A wave of melancholy fell over Marianne at her own mention of past blunders and mistakes, she did not deserve Colonel Brandon after all her faults, he was far too, and she was very much flawed. “The problem in that is my ability to see past emotions is limited at best.”

Elinor could see that her sister was not in any mood to be pestered for details about Mr Martin or her conversation with Colonel Brandon, so Elinor sided with patience and took leave of Marianne to re-join the others.

It wasn’t that Marianne didn’t want to tell her sister, she did, but many a thought had begun in her mind all of which were more than a little scary. She knew her Colonel’s disposition, but she also had thought she knew Willoughby’s also. There were many stories of young women marrying and their spouse becoming an utterly other person from the one they had known. This was unlikely to be Christopher he had proven himself no doubt but what if they became distant or felt that it wasn’t the same now that they had admitted their feelings to each other. There were just so many unknowns not to mention she felt wholly undeserving of him. Rain slid down the window pane, and she hoped things would become clear.


	5. Chapter 5

“Marianne? Are you feeling well?”

The stress must have been far too apparent on Marianne’s face because her mother's voice rang across the room, making her turn from the window and her ponderings.

“I… yes, perhaps a bit of a headache.” It wasn’t altogether untrue; all the thoughts were causing a slight ache to appear behind her eyes, and her stomach had been upset since they came inside.

Mrs Dashwood stood looking worried, “is it the chill dear? Come by the fire.”

Marianne waved a hand in protest, “No, no Mama I am alright, I think perhaps lying down would be best.”

Mrs Jennings of course having overheard the conversation chimed in, “John will not see you go home tonight in this weather, I’ll ring for Harriet to take you back to the room you stayed in last night.”

Marianne simply nodded and followed Harriet from the room, she had begun to once she spoke of it feel very lethargic and fatigued. Perhaps a bit of sleep before dinner would ease her mind. As soon as she lay on the soft feather mattress her eyes closed and she was lost to rest.

…

Staying at the park was something that the Colonel took moderate pleasure in. It was nice to have a bit of company, more than he did at home but it also meant that his solitude, which he did enjoy was not a feasible option. Sitting in the study talking of hunting and fishing was pleasant for only so long. When it was time for supper, he was far more than ready to be away from it all for a while.

Everyone was nearly all seated when they entered, except the person he very much wished to see. Marianne and it seemed Elinor were nowhere to be found, this was unsettling… Marianne could’ve changed her mind and been too upset to even come down for dinner. As subtly as he could, Brandon sat near Mrs Dashwood.

“Is all well?... forgive me.” He seemed to have startled her from her thoughts and she jumped a bit. Her then hesitation to answer him, aggravated his worry the more.

“Marianne wasn’t feeling well earlier this afternoon, she went to rest. Elinor is checking in on her.” The Colonel could now see the worry etched into Mrs Dashwood’s features, it was clear that it was a genuine concern for her child.

“Should I call for the doctor?” Panic gripped his heart like an iron fist.

“I… I do not know, Elinor was going to check, she said it was a headache, but since she went up to rest, she hasn’t woken.”

Brandon felt his stomach turn uncomfortably, propriety did not give him the right to just go in search of her room, but he could not sit idly by. A more terrible thought crossed his mind was it he that was to blame for this? Did his proposal and her regret send her into this state?

Just then Mr Martin spoke. “I am sure she was just tired, is all this upset necessary? She seems a strong young woman.”

“Absolutely,” added Sir John, “the doctor cleared her of all infection a long while ago, now didn’t he?”

Mrs Dashwood and Colonel Brandon looked to each other then Elinor entered, and all attention snapped to her. “It is nothing serious just a bit of fatigue after a day in the sun, she demanded that dinner go on and wouldn’t stand for me to stay with her.”

“There!” Sir John exclaimed, motioning a servant to begin serving.

“Is someone with her?” Asked Colonel Brandon to Elinor when she sat.

“Yes, Harriet offered to stay.” Elinor glanced at her mother, “she wouldn’t hear of me staying, do not worry yourself, Colonel, sometimes my sister gets is too strong willed for her own good." 

To this he wanted to protest but instead kept quiet moving food about on his plate and eating little, he was very much worried.

…

Marianne had awoken just before dinner to her head spinning and her stomach unsettled no longer but aching uncomfortably. Elinor was immediately worried that it was the fever returning, but Marianne did not feel as she had when the fever had taken hold or even recovering from it. This was something else entirely, but she felt that it wasn’t nearly so severe, sleeping it off seemed to be the best plan. Elinor had agreed to go down after some debate. Before she could leave to get Harriet, Marianne stopped her remembering that Christopher and herself were meant to announce their engagement at dinner.

“Elinor?”

“Yes?”

“Would you… could you ask Colonel Brandon if he would see me after dinner?”

“Are you well enough?” no doubt she looked as green as she felt.

“I must be, I need to speak with him.”

Elinor looked as if she wished to ask something but kept silent only nodding her head in answer.

This eased Marianne’s mind a bit, and she was able to lie back against the covers and close her eyes hoping the room would stop spinning at some point and the dull ache she felt would subside.

…

The entire party gathered in the parlour after supper, the Martins were filling all in on how life had been in town. Colonel Brandon had been able to subtly take up a seat near the fire and produced a small tome he kept in a hidden pocket of his waistcoat. Perhaps literature would take his mind from worry. As it were, it only aided to distract him further as he thought Marianne and her love of reading that was when Elinor saved the Colonel from a downward spiral of stress and self-doubt.

“She asked if you would see her after dinner.” The eldest of the Dashwood sisters said taking a seat in an armchair near his.

The Colonel looked up a little shocked, looking about he could tell all seemed to be engaged in conversation or other and wouldn’t notice his absence. He nodded to Elinor and made his way out of the room.

For a moment after he reached the door, he stood hand raised to knock, this had the potential to tear him apart. She could very easily ask him to be released from their engagement of less than a day and of course, he wouldn’t refuse, couldn’t if it meant her happiness.

Going on after feeling such joy as he had today would be next to unbearable only aided in the thought that he would know she was happier and might live a fuller life. He had been through much, and yet another pain on his heart would surely be liveable. With that thought in mind, he got up the courage to rap his fist lightly against the door.

The door was answered by one of the maids, and she quickly made herself scarce no doubt she had been told to leave when he arrived, however inappropriate his presence may be. He kept a distance staying near the door, away from where Marianne was lying but when she struggled to sit up, touching a hand to her stomach, he couldn’t help but rush over to aid her.

When she was propped against a pillow he sat in the chair near the end of the bed, he was prepared for her to speak but the words that came out were not the ones he expected.

“Are you cross with me, my love?”

“Cross?” he was baffled, why on earth would he be angry at her?

“We were going to announce the engagement, and I seemed to have gotten ill once more. It is not serious I am sure that tomorrow I shall be all right again, perhaps we may announce it then?”

She was worried that he would be angry that they were not able to announce their engagement at dinner? His heart gave a sudden leap of joy, she still wished to be engaged to him. “Marianne I am not the least bit concerned about that, I am far more troubled about your wellbeing and state of mind. Are you sure that I should not call for the doctor? It may set your mothers concerns to rest, and my own." He admitted the last bit under his breath. Somewhat embarrassed he was of how much he did worry for her. 

“Christopher, I assure you I am fine. I think I just may have upset myself a bit and until the rain began, it was quite warm outside.”

He knitted his eyebrows together, “what distresses you?”

Marianne sighed she hadn’t meant to tell him of her fears, but he was always so understanding, and she wished to still be honest with him once he was her husband. “Well for one, I see the stress Elinor is under due to her wedding, and it is troubling. I do not want much of a fuss when we get married.”

“Done. I cannot say that a large spectacle is something that I want in the slightest.”

She chewed at her bottom lip, “but isn’t is necessary due to your position as the master of Deleford?”

“That my dear is precisely why I do not need to.” She smiled, but he could still tell there was something wrong, “please go on, I wish to hear what troubles you.”

“I…” she faltered, “no that is all, just getting myself worked up over nothing.” Marianne wasn’t ready to tell him of her inadequateness next to him, he would inevitably brush it off and perhaps later come to regret that. She must find a way to instead better herself or make amends more than she already had, maybe then she would not feel so terribly unworthy.

He knew she hadn’t spoken entirely honest, but he would not push her either, for now, the knowledge that she wanted to marry him was enough. Ever so carefully he allowed his fingers to brush over her open palm where it laid facing up on the bed. This was dangerous territory, how badly he wished to hold her, treat her as a wife, but society wouldn’t allow such a thing at this moment. Standing he picked up her hand and laid a gentle kiss on her wrist just as Elinor poked her head inside the room. It was time for him to leave. With great effort, he smiled at Marianne who looked up at him with admiration. Before exiting the room.

…

As he lay in bed that night, he felt wide awake, his thoughts full of Marianne and the fact that he was bafflingly still set to marry her even if no one knew.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to stay at the park and he had become used to the room he often stayed, he even found it comfortable. This night he could not seem to fall asleep. How badly he wished time would move forward quickly so they could be man and wife. He wished for her to know and love Deleford as he did. To show her all he took pride in, to love her and show her that love without the rules that society forced them into.

Finally realising that trying at sleep was of no use, the Colonel removed himself from his bed and went to his bag, taking out a leather-bound journal.

Lighting a candle, he went to the only task he had found that cleared his mind and soothed his soul sometimes in the worst of times, like that of his war days. Emptying his thoughts onto the pages allowed him to finally collapse into bed and fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but there will be a new one up right quick :)

“Are you completely certain you are well enough for breakfast Marianne?” Margret and Elinor were at the door, and it seemed that even the youngest of the girls was taking notice of her elder sister’s condition.

Marianne knew she was pale and if she were sincere, she felt unwell indeed. The pain in her abdomen had intensified, only soothed by a warm compress. There was relief that her headache had abated, but this pain was something very new to her. She had slept the afternoon before, and through the night but yet she felt tired. Marianne was not about to speak to her family about it as they would only worry, and it couldn’t be anything very serious she was sure.

Marianne glanced out of the window and tugged at the shawl, so it wrapped round her younger sisters’ shoulders a bit tighter. The storm had grown worse overnight and though morning, thunder, lightning and wind raged outside causing a chill to run through the house.

 “Margaret no matter what Elinor is telling you I am fine, just a bit peaky from last evening.” She sent a scowl Elinor’s way before brushing past them through the door. “And don’t give those looks around Mama or she may worry herself sick. I will inform you if I am not well.”

With that they all three went down to breakfast, Marianne leading and with great effort tried to look at ease.

…

It wasn’t Marianne’s demeanour that clued to him something was amiss, she seemed perfectly well if a bit pale. No, it was Elinor and her constant glancing at her sister. The two of them were closer than even they might know, it was generally something he thought of sweetly but at the moment Elinor’s concern only made his stomach flip uncomfortably as he buttered a piece of toast and half listened to Sir John babble.

“What do you think Brandon?” John’s voice broke his train of thought… clearly, he had been paying less attention than originally thought.

Mr Martin seemed amused by the Colonel’s distance of thought, “I am thinking of buying Allenham, what say you on the matter?”

This pricked Christopher’s attention, and Marianne’s her head bobbed up at the sound of that all too familiar place.

“Is the estate not going to a cousin of the widows?” Asked Colonel Brandon, his brow creasing, that was the last he had heard of the place when the widow died a few months earlier.

Martin waved a hand passively, “they are selling, apparently not interested in the upkeep.”

It felt as if a weight was pressing on the Colonel’s chest. Willoughby’s would be home being owned by his friend. That had a spelling of disaster if ever he heard of one. Fortunately, he was not required to remark on the subject as Mrs Jennings had her own bit to say on the matter.

“That ivy is the loveliest I have ever laid my eyes on Mr Martin, I always wondered just how she kept it so. You must take it on that account alone…”

Colonel Brandon again allowed their voices to fade out as he looked at Marianne and saw her picking at her food.

…

It seemed another night at Barton Park was in the making, when breakfast and lunch concluded with the weather not relenting. Sir John was making plans to build onto his gardens, and Colonel Brandon had spent the afternoon in his study. Marianne sorely missed his company.

Her fatigue increased over the hours and distraction was needed. Taking up her place in the empty music room she began to play, it always had brought her solace. Closing her eyes, she felt the music, allowed it to engulf her and push aside any apprehension or concern for her health she had been holding onto. The notes rolled from her fingers and out into the unfilled space. There was such freedom in this art, and she would never understand how there were people who didn’t appreciate it.

As she finished the piece, there was soft, gentle clapping from the door. Colonel Brandon stood there almost as he had once before when they first met. This time he had a faint smile that reached his eyes, and his shoulders were relaxed a bit.

“Lovely,” he said quietly.

Marianne lifted a hand and motioned him to her. “I am so happy that you have an affinity for music.”

He chuckled, “I do love it. Especially when it is your playing.”

She blushed and ducked her head a bit when he came to stand next to her seat.

In a moment of weakness or perhaps bravery he lifted a finger to her cheekbone, brushing the blush that had spread. His movement made her smile and this, in turn, made him smile back. Marianne moved to stand, but the motion seemed to take it out of her, and she had to grip the pianoforte for stability. Touching a hand to her head, she furrowed her brow in frustration.

Colonel Brandon had immediately leapt into action placing a hand at her waist. “Marianne, what is it? Are you alright?”

Trying to straighten she nodded, “just a bit faint- I think, I may need to lie down.”

“Let me call the doctor please.”

“No! Christopher, there is nothing wrong, just a bit under the weather is all.” If a doctor came, he could find something the matter with her and all her bliss could go away. No, she would see a doctor if it got worse.

“It was under the weather yesterday. Now it has become something more, I cannot stand for something to happen to you.” His voice shook a bit with feeling, and he helped her into a comfortable chair, taking a knee just next to her on the floor.

Marianne’s entire body felt heavy like she was wading through water. Her own conviction in not wishing to see a doctor was waning with the effort it took just to think straight. Her Colonel had reached out and grabbed her hand bringing it to his lips. “I do not want to worry Mama, she will not believe me that it does not feel as it did when I suffered the fever.”

“You believe it is something else?”

“Yes, just tired.”

Colonel Brandon looked thoroughly unconvinced, “let me get Elinor, and perhaps she may convince you to see sense,” he gave a disapproving look. “Seeing as you will not listen to me.” He stood before she could object and and the bell for a maid, Ruth arrived promptly. “Please help Miss Marianne to her quarters, her sister will be up shortly.”

The look of contempt on Marianne’s face did not escape him as he went in search of Elinor.

…

Later that night after some talk with Elinor and an aggressive silent treatment from Marianne, Brandon was sitting with an open book in his lap, dressed for bed. The doctor had been optimistic that Marianne only suffered from a bit of fatigue as she herself had thought but monitoring her condition would be best. Thankfully Mrs Dashwood had been reasonably easy to calm, and all seemed to be well.

The Colonel was lost in his thoughts when a knock sounded at his bedroom door. So, ingrained he had been that it startled him. It seemed that perhaps the dogs had gotten out, and John needed his help but when he swung the door open it was Elinor stood at the door, and his heart halted.

“Marianne is in a great deal of pain, she wishes me not to, but I think we must again send for the doctor.”

His heart that had just prior stopped began to pound in his chest, and he felt the blood rushing to his head.

“Of course, I will go at once, alert a servant to tell John where I have gone.” Colonel Brandon had already begun a search for proper clothes when Elinor left the room to do as he asked.


	7. Chapter 7

Brandon rode as fast as he could and returned promptly with Doctor Burns in tow. The whole house was in a state at this point. Mrs Jennings once awakened had been vocal with her worry, waking all other inhabitants apparently. Mr Martin had only shown his face for but a moment before returning to bed. Sir John and Mrs Jennings huddled in the parlour with tea and biscuits, gossiping no doubt about what exactly was going on.

Marianne barely spoke a word when the doctor entered and frowned as he looked her over, asking for symptoms. She spoke of her tiredness and pain but became uncomfortable with what she wanted to say next. It was then that she asked everyone in the room to leave.

“Oh, come, dearest, Mama and I will be with you, and the Colonel can wait just outside the door,” Elinor was smiling gently.

“Elinor, I mean this," she sighed tiredly. "Please. I would like to speak with Doctor Burns alone.”

Mrs Dashwood tugged on Elinor’s arm as she gapped at her sister in the bed and pulled her toward the door followed by Colonel Brandon. He glanced back to be sure Marianne didn’t secretly need him, for he would have broken any societal rules, man or god created if it would ease her pain or aid her in any way. He did not see anything of the sort on her face. Instead, it was a look of deep-set sadness that encompassed her features. His hazel eyes locked with her blue ones and it looked as if she was saying goodbye.

Colonel Brandon immediately shook this odd occurrence from his mind the moment he stepped beyond the threshold. Just the day before she professed her love for him and second-guessing her would do no such good. Though it wasn’t like Marianne at all to send away the people she loved in times of crisis. Or was it? She had gone to that hill over Combe Magna alone…

It seemed that Elinor was more than nervous she was on the verge of frantic, pinching a bit of fabric from her dress between two fingers tightly.

“What did he say earlier this afternoon?” questioned Mrs Dashwood when they were down the hallway, away from the door.

Elinor had been the only one in the room when the doctor first visited.

Elinor tried to calm her voice, “he… he asked of her symptoms…”

“What were they? The symptoms.” Christopher asked, bracing his back against a wall, just trying he best to remain standing at all.

Even Elinor had been shocked when Marianne stated the things she had been feeling for a while, it was delicate information, at first only attributed to weakness but now… “Cramping… in her lower abdomen, dizzy spells, headaches… some more private symptoms as well…”

Mrs Dashwood looked shocked, and Elinor wasn’t surprised, she too had been at a loss. “Why did she ask of you to leave just now?”

“I haven’t the faintest clue Mama. Unless she believes this to be serious from her own thought.”

Brandon pressed a palm against the wall to steady himself, if he were to lose her it would kill him, he knew it with all his heart that it would.

Elinor looked to him, “she told me that you are to be married," Elinor smiled faintly. "She was so sorry to spoil the secret, but she thought it may be best that I knew, and I must say that I wasn’t surprised when she expressed it.”

The Colonel smiled sadly at Elinor, “it is all well.”

Just then the door to Marianne’s room opened, and the doctor came out. He quickly held up a hand as the three swarmed him. “She is not in danger, do not trouble about that. Her condition could stem from the fever… though it is hard to tell.” He glanced at Elinor thoughtfully before continuing, “At the moment she needs rest, I have given her instruction on what may help her in the long term and ease some of the more intrusive symptoms… she has asked me to say no more.” He replaced his hat and made way down the stair toward the waiting carriage, that had been readied for his departure.

The atmosphere had not changed much after the odd news. It was tense and confused.

“Mama? Elinor?” called Marianne through the door, it sounded as if she had been crying.

All three of them rushed toward the doorway. Colonel Brandon paused there as the women approached Marianne’s bedside. Marianne’s usually delicate skin was red and splotchy from tears, and her hair had been placed in a hurried plait, with bits sticking out all over. She looked nothing like herself and yet his heart yearned to hold her, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen laying there on that pillow. He loved her with the most profound feeling, it was nearly unbearable in some moments, much like this one.

“Dearest, what is it? The Doctor told us so little.” Elinor was close to tears a feat that wasn’t often accomplished.

Marianne looked as if she was vexed about how to say something, her usually over articulate manner was absent at present. Looking up at the doorway and the man it held there, every bit of emotion pouring from the look in his eyes. She smiled at him so very sadly, tears brimming in her eyes. She softly choked out a request that ripped his heart in two, “Colonel Brandon would you leave us please?”

Elinor looked back at the Colonel then Marianne, “darling it is perfectly alright to have him stay, he is your betroth-.”

Marianne stopped her, rasping through starting tears, “please.” She pleaded looking to him.

Brandon needed no more, he bowed and retreated shutting the door very softly. Walking as swiftly as possible, even brushing past servants a little more harshly than was in his nature he finally made it to his own rooms. Where he promptly shut the door, falling against it and sliding down, allowing the tears to fall.

…

Then there was nothing, no word the entire next day. Colonel Brandon woke the next afternoon after falling asleep for no less than an hour or so to the news that all the Dashwood family had left very early that morning. His immediate reaction was to go to them, to find out what was wrong. Beg Marianne for forgiveness, for whatever she could ever want, just to have him. This, of course, was ludicrous. He would not impede upon their privacy, and there was the chance that he was overreacting to this, perhaps Marianne just wished to be in her own space. But why hadn’t she called upon him since? Edward was also taken by surprise at the news and went to the cottage right off to see what was the matter when he returned he told the Colonel that they wouldn’t tell him a word of Marianne except that she needed rest in her own home.

Now two days later there was still no word, and he resigned to take his leave of Barton Park and go back to Deleford. Perhaps there among the things that he had made his life’s work and enjoyment he could find solace and perhaps an insight into how to proceed. The ache that had abated very recently was again panging in his chest, keeping him awake and in a state of profound sadness.

John was trying his hardest to console his friend, but that just wasn’t the man’s forte, and the Colonel knew it.

He readied his things, and just as he was about to mount his horse, a voice called him.

“Colonel Brandon!” It was Elinor running up the drive, holding her bonnet on her head to keep from flying off.

“Miss Dashwood?” His heart filled with a kind of apprehension and excitement and his stomach knotted.

“Colonel, I cannot say how sorry I am for all of this. I would have- I – Marianne made me swear to not speak with you… I am breaking her confidence.” Elinor was nearly out of breath it was clear she had run there.

Brandon was perplexed. “Miss Dashwood, I don’t think I-.”

“Marianne, her condition, she refuses to tell you but insists that I do not either… I believe she is concerned about your reaction. Though I have told her that you are not the sort of man to be… I believe that if she sees you, she will explain herself.”

“I will not force her to see me… or marry me.” The last thing that he wanted was to push Marianne, perhaps after this, all settled they could once again be friends. That in itself would be a miracle.

“She does want to see you, desperately, she has cried herself to sleep for your loss these past two nights.” Elinor was so high strung, it was very out of place, she was usually composed and organised.

His eyebrows furrowed more, “I am not lost to her, I have been in a state, waiting for some news or...!"

Elinor was not the only one to be surprised by behaviour, Colonel Brandon was raising his voice in frustration, that was not common occurrence. With her and everyone else for that matter, he was generally so collected, almost as Elinor herself that it was very much out of place.

“If I explain any more I will ruin the fragile line I have already crossed. Please just come to the cottage.”

He, of course, he agreed, without even the thought of not doing so.


	8. Chapter 8

When they reached the cottage, Mrs Dashwood was at the window staring into the distance and Margaret in her tree house. Colonel Brandon thought this odd if Marianne was ill wouldn’t it be prudent that she was being watched over. It seemed they all were going about things as was usual.

 As they crossed the threshold, Mrs Dashwood greeted them, her eyes tears stained and looking to Elinor with a bit of anger that Colonel Brandon had never seen before. Though she seemed, of course, cordial to him, there was a sense of worry in Mrs Dashwood's demeanour, like he might break her heart at any moment.

She was about to speak when Marianne’s voice was heard from the stairs, it sounded tired but not weak.

“I think I shall go for a walk, it may free my mind.” Her words died away when she entered the parlour and saw who it held.

For not the first time that day surprise overcame the Colonel, Marianne looked well. It was clear she had been crying at some point as her eyes and nose were a bit red and puffy, but her face had colour, and she showed no residual effects of the pain a few days before. As soon as she laid eyes on him her lip quivered, shine entering her eyes. He watched her bite it in an attempt to stop. What on earth was going on?

“Miss Marianne,” his gentile manners won over, and he addressed her as he should with a tip of his head.

This seemed to possibly upset her more, and her chin puckered again to fight back the tears. She did not address him in turn, instead looked at Elinor piercing her with a gaze that was nothing short of frightful. To her credit, Elinor didn’t look the least bit intimidated. Instead, she looked to the Colonel then back to Marianne.

“If you wish to walk, I have no doubt that the Colonel will accompany you.”

Brandon’s eyebrows shot up, but nodded looking to Marianne, she was not looking at him, still glaring at Elinor. Mrs Dashwood seemed to have made herself scarce during this power struggle, and Colonel Brandon was thinking about doing the very same when Marianne started for the door. He had to go quickly in order to follow.

She kept to her quick gate at least two steps ahead of him all the way to the edge of a meadow they had often roamed in the last few months. Then she stopped very abruptly before the field that used to house wildflowers until autumn had begun to close in. Marianne whirled around in time to see him skid to a halt then stand tall, trying to make himself the picture of ease which he wished to be.

“I am sorry, that I did not inform you of our leaving. Now that I am sure Elinor has told you, I expect that you have come here to be noble and I… do not wish you to be” She was being so curt with him, but through the facade, he saw the pain behind her hard eyes.

“Forgive me, I do not think that I understand.” This was said much more sternly than he had meant it, but he was tired of these assumptions, he was ready to hear something fully. Skirting about the truth only seemed to further exasperate him.

Marianne’s face fell a bit in sorrow, and Colonel Brandon immediately regretted his tone and was about to apologise when she reached out and grabbed his hands from where they hung at his sides, with nothing to do.

“Christo- Colonel, I thought perhaps it would be within my capability to keep myself from having to tell you. I am ashamed of myself, and I have no want to affect your life negatively… for I do love you so desperately.” She sounded indeed desperate, pleading with her eyes for him to understand.

He, in turn, squeezed her hands gently, “Marianne, please you have nothing to be ashamed of. I only want you to be happy… I love you. I will fix whatever it is, just speak candidly with me, the moment I asked you to be my wife was the moment I became a servant to your every need.”

Pulling one of her hands to her mouth, she sobbed into it at his words. How did such a man exist and what fate had allowed her this cruel condition which now alienated herself from him? “I…” Marianne tried again and fell short. Brandon moved his thumbs over her hands in small soothing circles. “I suffer from a condition… that would affect our marriage.”

Fear gripped his heart again like a vice. Hadn’t it been said that she was well? Steadying his voice, the Colonel said, “Marianne” in a desperate effort for her continue.

“The pain… I was experiencing, amongst other things.” She blushed it was extraordinary indeed to be discussing something so private with a man, no matter how close she felt to him. “It seems that my fever may have had a lasting effect on my body that I did not know at the time.”

He couldn’t help but cut in, “but you are not hurting now? The pain can be remedied?”

Lips turning up in a soft, utterly despairing smile at his gentle and loving demeanour, “I am not in pain, Doctor Burns was kind enough to recommend a topic that seems to alleviate any pain I may feel and a tea for my fatigue.”

This made Christopher smiled widely. “There is nothing to worry of then?”

Deeply breathing in Marianne allowed the words that had crushed her soul to fall from her lips, “I have not the ability to bear children.”

He stared at her.

“The fever… my stupidity for going out in that storm took a toll on my body.” He was still not speaking so she quickly finished, “I release you from our agreement. I cannot in good faith keep this from you, nor could I condemn you to a life with a wife that could produce you no heir.” Her hands had slipped from his own and began wringing them, waiting for something.

Colonel Brandon was able to shake himself out of a stunned stupor, eyes softening as he understood the actions that had led her to this. “Marianne I am so sorry.”

Her head shot up shocked at his words. Allowing him to retake her hand out of sheer surprise.

“Doctor Burns knows this for certain? I am not a medical man but, in the army, you must know something of these things. How is it that he was able to see this as the cause?”

“He isn’t certain, not entirely but the women who he has treated with the condition have the very same symptoms and most recovered from a fever or sickness as severe as my own.” Her head hung again.

Stress and agony showed in her continence, this was weighing far too heavily on her mind. “Perhaps seeking out another Doctor in London could be helpful. I know of women in the village that struggled with such things and were attended by a midwife in town that aided them.” His smile was small, one of compassion and understanding for what she feared. “Childbirth is a terrifying thing in its own right, that we would have to overcome. You only decide how you wish to go forward, whether that be in trying to treat this condition, or a wish to live as the two of us, it matters not to me.” Without much thought, he leaned in and kissed her lips.

As he pulled back, Marianne was stunned, “you-you wish to marry me? Still, after what I have told you.”

Tugging very lightly he pulled her a bit closer so he could hold her upper arms, “with all my heart.”

Her mouth fell open, and he laughed loudly, expelling the happiness he felt in a sweet sound. Of course, he didn’t wish this upon her it was entirely unfortunate, but in light of the other more terrifying ailments he had been dreaming up having this was far less horrible. And she loved him still.

“Bu-but what of Delford and an heir? What of what others will think and say about you? I cannot allow your name to be further blackened by me than it already would be, because of my status and past dealings…”

“I care not for any of that. I care that you wish to be my wife. I love you with my very soul, and of course I would be happy were we to have a child but by no means does it make me want you or care for you less. My will can be altered to ensure that you are taken care of even without an heir, I have full control over that.” Colonel Brandon was grinning now and then seemed to remember something, fishing in his pocket and producing the ring.

“You…” she could not finish instead feeling overwhelmed with such joyous emotion sobbed her knees giving out, he caught her pulling her firmly against his chest. The closest they had been since he carried her. When she was in control, gripping the collar of his waistcoat, she whispered, “you wish to marry me.” It was not a question but an affirmation to herself.

“Yes,” he pressed lips to her temple, “yes,” to her cheek, “yes,” to her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a bit of research on female infertility during the Regency period, and very little is known. Mostly it was blamed on women without cause, so I have taken a bit of liberty here though I assume there were such cases as this with a Doctor having seen a correlation between an illness and assumed infertility.   
> The condition that seemed to be the most common (that I could find) is Hypothalamic Dysfunction, which in reality wouldn't be caused necessarily by a damaged immune system... but old medicine seemed to think so.   
> Marianne's reaction to this reveal was also a common one, if you could not have a baby, you were seen as kind of worthless. Thankfully our Brandon is not horrible.   
> Long tangent but I wanted to give a bit of information, thanks for reading! xoxo


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, Fluff... hehe <3

Betsy, Elinor and Margaret were able to produce a meal that now included the Colonel and Edward as he had come to check on the family and Brandon.

Marianne and the Colonel had walked about for a long while as she composed herself and they talked of wedding plans. They both seemed very keen to do it all quickly and though Marianne still felt a little wary of what others would say when her condition was undoubtedly made known by their lack of children she decided that it wasn’t important at the moment, there was too much else that needed to be thought of. Elinor and Edward were to be wed in a matter of days and that in itself was going to be all-encompassing, she set her mind to that.

The sun was beginning to droop in the sky and Marianne knew that meant Christopher must leave if he ever wanted to get back to Deleford before nightfall. They had all been making time pass in the parlour playing cards and conversing, Marianne was almost able to forget that there was anything amiss with herself. When the thoughts did come back to her she descended into a solemn mood as she walked Colonel Brandon out to his horse.

“I have a bit of business to attend to in regard to the wedding, it may detain me most of the day, but may I call the next?” Hazel eyes shone in the dimming light.

Marianne was giving his horse a very loving pet and felt her heart sink a little, but she nodded and put on a cheeky smile. Running a finger over the lapel of his coat, “how I cannot wait to be your wife! Then I can refuse to allow you leave of me.”

This made his face break into a wide smile, “that is a happy thought indeed.” Reaching a hand, he carefully touched a golden lock that fallen on her neck.

Marianne grew pink when she had to repress a shiver, “please be careful on your ride home,” she whispered. Somehow, she had moved unconsciously closer and had to tilt her head to look at him directly.

Brandon swallowed and nodded, “of course.” Dropping his head, he pressed the softest of kisses to her bottom lip then pulled away in fear of losing his control. Instead held her hand to his lips and kissed over every knuckle. Reluctantly allowing it to fall to her side and him to mount his horse. Marianne waved to him and Brandon was off.

…

Elinor and Edward Ferrars had the loveliest wedding that Marianne had ever seen she was sure. Simple and practical just like their demeanours. The ceremony was moving, and Marianne cried many happy tears for her sister and new brother, while she held hands with Margaret and her mother on the church pews. Most of her attention was on the bride and groom but there was an occasion when her eyes drifted to her left and up a row where Colonel Brandon sat near Sir John. He must have noticed her gaze because he too glanced at her his own look one of tenderness the moment he realised she was the one looking. This sent warmth coursing about her heart, how could you feel so much for one individual?

Later well into the evening and the festivities she was still contemplating that very thought. They had danced until they were both a bit red in the face and out of breath. They sat with one another on and off and each moment made her feel as though she might burst from joy and love for him. At the moment she had to look around to spot him after being asked to a dance by Edward. When she found him, her brow furrowed.

He was near the edge of the large dance space speaking quietly with Eliza, who at Elinor’s insistence had attended. It was the first time that any of the Dashwood’s had met her, but Elinor had wanted someone so close to the Colonel to attend.

Marianne had found her to be beautiful and kind, but very standoffish. Their greeting had been short and to the point, then the girl had hurried away from the group to watch the dancing. Part of Marianne wondered if her behaviour had something to do with Willoughby, he was a connection of both their pasts.

Now she could see that Eliza had tears shining on her cheeks and Christopher had removed a handkerchief for her from his jacket. She made up her mind to see if there was something she could do.

 Eliza seemed to be distraught by the looks of it and Marianne could tell by the compassionate crease in his forehead that Christopher was concerned for her. How kind he was, it would never cease to baffle her she was sure. There were men like Willoughby who left disasters in their wake, and then beautiful men like Christopher Brandon there to pick up the pieces and make them right again.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” said Marianne softly when she neared them.

Eliza tried to smile through her tears and look as if she hadn’t been crying, “not at all, I am sorry that I have kept your betrothed from you, Miss Marianne. I think it is time for me to return to the house and relieve Genevieve.”

“Do not fret he hasn’t been missed,” Marianne grinned at Eliza’s shocked face. Colonel Brandon chuckled.

“It was only a jest, I always miss him when he is gone from my side, so I am not at all concerned. Cannot your cousin and I persuade you to stay a bit? I feel as though I need to know more about such an important person in my fiancé’s life.”

Eliza’s spirits did look lifted, but she shook her head. “I promised Thomas I would be home in time to tuck him in for bed.”

“I will ready the carriage for you,” Colonel Brandon, giving her shoulder a small squeeze and walking toward the exit of the building. It was a beautiful town hall in the amidst the various farms and houses that encompassed Deleford. Brandon had made sure that the entirety of it was covered in garlands of fresh flowers and it up with candles, it looked spectacular.

Marianne turned to Eliza, “I hope you do not find me rude, I only wish to know you a bit better.”

“Believe me, you are far from rude, I feel very much the same.” Eliza smiled.

Marianne took Eliza’s arm as they walked to the door when Christopher was surely waiting. “Could we have tea? Tomorrow?”

Eliza seemed a bit startled by her eagerness but nodded with a shy smile, “yes, my cousin has allowed myself and Thomas a parlour in the house whilst we are staying.”

“Very good then, I will be there.”

Sure, enough when they reached the threshold, the carriage was fully ready to take Eliza to her son.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” answered Marianne.

She watched Eliza leave and looked about the room, eyes followed Eliza as her back turned, even here on the home ground of her biggest supporter. It made Marianne sick, they could all take their judgement and do something far more productive with their time. It could have very easily been her in Eliza’s position, in her deepest heart she knew that. There was a time where Willoughby could’ve asked her anything and she would have acquiesced to him.

Taking the seat where Eliza had only just been Marianne thought about her own predicament. Colonel Brandon had been his wonderful, kind and generous self when she had finally told him, but now, he allowed himself to take on yet again someone else’s burden. When people began to talk as they undoubtedly would, he would receive the scrutiny as much as she. There was something absolutely heart-breaking about such a thought.

Shaking it away Marianne looked to her sister and Edward, they were seated across the hall, chairs pulled so close together that their knees were touching. Both were whispering and if it hadn’t been their wedding day, it would have been very inappropriate indeed. Marianne grinned and touched a finger to the ring that now sat on her finger. Rolling it. Remembering that it was there, that he was real. She breathed easily with that knowledge.

So, entranced she was that she didn’t notice Colonel Brandon appear next to her and take a seat. He discreetly brushed her forearm with his thumb and made her jump, then her eyes lit up at the sight of him.

He chuckled, “forgive me.”

She only smiled sweetly and looked back to the Ferrars’s. Marianne scooted a bit closer so their thighs could brush on the bench they sat at.

“They are lovely.”

“Indeed,” he replied, “indeed.”

“I love Deleford Christopher,” honestly shone in her blue eyes and she blushed a bit at using his Christian name, it still felt strange.

“You have not yet seen most of it!” But he laughed looking like she had made him the happiest man in the world just by that statement alone.

“I don’t need to! I mean I do wish to,” she back peddled at his puzzled look. “But the fact that you love it so, is absolutely enough for me.”

“I love you,” whispered Colonel Brandon.

“I love you as well.”

…

That night when they all finally retired, and Marianne laid prepared for sleep in her bed at Deleford.  She could still feel Christopher Brandon’s lips on her hand. Smiling with her eyes closed she snuggled into the sheets and thought how soon this would be her home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XOXO!

Waking up in his own home hadn’t been this exciting in possibly decades. Perhaps since he was a boy and his mother was still alive. So, at peace, he was that he ended up, by accident sleeping in, something that also hadn’t occurred for years. It was ten by the time he made himself ready, and down to the dining hall. By that duration, everyone it seemed had gone out to enjoy the day. He found and made himself a cup of tea before going in search of his party. 

Colonel Brandon found them in the garden Sir John, and Margaret were by the stream, he made a mental note to take Margret fishing next chance he had. His eyes finally settled on the rest at a table near the house being held captivated by what was no doubt by Mrs Jennings over exuberant retelling of the day before. When he got closer, Marianne's eyes got wide, looking as if she might bolt out of her chair with excitement at seeing him. Instead, she collected herself and met him halfway. 

“There you are!” 

“Here I am,” he laughed taking a sip of his tea. 

“Did you get breakfast?” Her brow creased with concern. 

He held the cup of tea out to her to show that he had indeed. 

“That is not a proper breakfast! You need to eat, I believe very soon it will be my job to make you do such things.” 

The Colonel grinned at her. 

It would be one of the last beautiful days of the year, as autumn was setting in and the sun was hiding more and more. Seeing the sun shining in her hair made him wish that it would stay so forever, even though he much preferred cooler temperatures. 

“What are you staring at?” Marianne touched her neck nervously.

“You,” he replied unabashedly. How he wanted to reach out and touch her, kiss her, pull her against him and make sure she knew just how beautiful she looked and how ardently he loved her. Societal rules be damned. If it weren’t for how much he adored her and wished that everyone thinks nothing but the best of her he would have done so. Instead, he gestured to the group and took another sip of tea. “I seem to have slept in and missed festivities.”

“You needed your rest, I cannot imagine all the work you put in to make the wedding such a success.” 

“It was really nothing at all, all done very, very happily I can assure you.” He smiled a bit embarrassed at her praise of him. Looking around he didn’t see Eliza. “I am very grateful to you Marianne for how kind you were to Eliza last evening, she needed it. It is still hard for her to go out, the scrutiny she is under … hasn’t dissipated I’m afraid to say.”

“She is lovely, I am only sad that she lives so far from us, I have a feeling she and I could become perfect friends, Actually,” Marianne looked at him expectantly, “do you have the time?”

Colonel Brandon removed his pocket watch, “just before 11.” 

Her brows shot up in surprise, “I need to go, or I will be late!” Marianne hurriedly went and fetched her bonnet from where she discarded it just by her mother and walked swiftly back to the Colonel. “I told Eliza I would go and visit her for tea and meet little Thomas. Won't you come to join us in a bit?”

Something tightened in Colonel Brandon’s stomach at the mention of Marianne meeting Thomas. It was so obvious who the boy’s father was just by seeing the small child. “Of course, I need to ask Sir John about one of the dogs, but after that, I will be in.” 

“Wonderful!” Marianne then half ran to the house. 

The Colonel was left standing unsure of what exactly was going to happen. There was a portion of him that was still quite unsure what Marianne saw in himself, and if it would last. 

…

The small parlour that had been made up for Eliza was utterly charming. Marianne sat at her bidding and began to sip her tea. The two soon realised that they were very much alike, giggling and talking like school girls about whatever seemed to come up in conversation. It was finally when Eliza began to laugh so hard her eyes started to water, that both of them heard a small cry from the other room. 

A woman with red hair poked her head in the door. 

“Is he awake Genevieve?” 

“Yes, mam.” 

Eliza looked to Marianne, “is it alright if Thomas joins us?”

Marianne smiled, “of course, I would love to meet him.” 

Genevieve nodded and returned a moment later with a little dark-haired boy, clinging to her hand and waddling into the room. As soon as the child saw his mummy, he squealed showing a mostly gummy smile. 

“There he is,” crooned Eliza to her son, “walk to mummy!” 

Marianne watched the display with joy, the child looked exactly as she expected Willoughby had as a baby. Yet there wasn't a part of her that felt the least bit sad for herself. This made her smile even more widely, the only things that she possibly felt regret about at this moment was the way that Eliza was treated for giving birth to such a beautiful child, and Willoughby taking advantage of her innocence. 

Thomas with the help of Genevieve made wobbly steps to his mother. 

Scooping up the baby Eliza kissed his cheek and sat him on her lap. “Marianne, this is Thomas.” 

“Hello, Thomas,” she said reaching out and giving his chubby hand a playful shake. 

“Muma mum…” babbled the child. 

Marianne laughed, and watched as the baby’s eyes suddenly lit up, he clapped his hands. 

Eliza smirked, talking to Thomas, “oh, there he is hmmm? You always prefer him don’t you?” 

Turning she saw that the baby had been distracted by Christopher standing in the doorway. He held a look of nervousness on his face, but it abated when he saw Marianne looking at him with love. The Colonel came to sit on the sofa next to Marianne, and she watched with delight as Thomas squirmed in his mother's arms toward Christopher. 

Standing he reached out for the boy and sat back with Thomas in his lap. The baby immediately began to play with that buttons on Brandon’s coat. Christopher looked up at the two of them, “how was tea?”

“Oh so good!” Eliza clapped her hands together happily, “it has been such a long time since I have been able to talk with another woman like this.” 

Marianne once again felt pity for her new friend, it was unfair the way the world treated her and yet Willoughby was allowed to continue living in society without question or care. 

“Well I am very pleased by that,” offered the Colonel as he allowed Thomas to play with his fingers. “I have told Eliza for a long time that it is my hope she and Thomas will move to Deleford village, there is a house that could be made ready for them at any time.” He raised an eyebrow at his ward. 

“And I have told you that there is no reason to inconvenience yourself more on my account.” 

He snorted, “that is simply not the case, it is not an inconvenience in the slightest! In fact, I would very much like you around more often and it would be extremely comforting to me, that I know wholeheartedly that you are taken well care of.” 

Eliza rolled her eyes in jest, “now that Marianne will soon be here I may decide that it is worth it, it would not be just you and your mopping,” she winked at Marianne. 

The Colonel pretended to look aghast then tickled Thomas’s tummy making the baby shriek with laughter, “did you hear that Tommy? What your mummy said? She believes me to be boring! You disagree don’t you?” The baby was tickled again before Christopher hugged the child against his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Oh! Don’t listen to your silly Uncle Tommy!” Eliza laughed reaching out for the baby, Thomas instead clung to Colonel Brandon, and Eliza shrugged smiling happily. 

“It would be wonderful if you lived closer Eliza!” Marianne added. 

As the three of them talked, Marianne watched Christopher with little Thomas. He was so caring with the child, and it was easy to see that Thomas loved him dearly as well. She had seen many men with their own children not act quite so loving. Most would be irritated by them, or in some cases completely ignore the children, But not Christopher Brandon, this baby was of a man he loathed and yet that made no difference to the doting he bestowed on Thomas. 

Later as the sun was setting, he and Marianne walked in the garden, arm in arm did she say softly. “You are absolutely lovely with Thomas.”

Brandon smiled widely, “I love him,” he replied innocently. 

“Why does Eliza refer you to him as Uncle?”

He lead them to a tree where they could sit beneath and watch the sunset. “We thought it would make it easier as he got older, to have a title for me. I feel so much closer to him than some distant cousin or other… whatever I am to her.” 

“That seems sensible.” They were both quiet for a moment as the sun started to dip behind the trees, and the sky lit up in shades of orange and fuchsia. 

“Christopher?” she asked after a moment had passed. 

“Yes?”

“Can I speak very honestly with you?” 

He chuckled but swallowed nervously, “of course, always.”

She sighed, “I find that I am not the least bit convinced by people and their ways.” She waved a hand about to indicate the place they sat, “they say there is all this evidence of creation and I understand that…” She trailed off, he had always told her he preferred that she was frank with him about her thoughts but that didn’t mean she should be speaking of what others might misconstrue as heresy. 

“But?” 

“Well, I am not so certain that all these things are exactly as they should be, at least in the minds of people. Eliza broke some of those unseen laws and instead of loving her as you do… people shun her and treat her as less than. It is not right.” 

Colonel Brandon rubbed his jaw, “you are very right my love.” 

Toying with her fingers, laid in her lap she continued, “if there is a true, absolute creator and everything that I hear in church is true, then there should be kindness in cases such as Eliza’s … but there is not.” Looking straight ahead now, Marianne held her head high, “I think that it is wrong.” 

Colonel Brandon ran a finger down her arm and pulled her closer as he noticed goose pimples pricking on her arms. “I agree with you, fully and I believe that my marrying you may be keeping you from a much more prestigious position as a Barrister or perhaps a Philosopher.” It was a jest, but there was honesty in his words, Marianne Dashwood was one of the brightest people he had ever known. Her kind heart leant her to aiding others, her mind and soul longed for knowledge and beauty… things that the world was not yet able to see together. It made him very sad that he who did not see the world in such an extensive light as she. Yet he could still choose to do nearly anything he wished, and his Marianne was imprisoned in a life that she could not entirely select. 

As if sensing his sadness, she snuggled closer and looked up into his face, touching a finger to his bottom lip. “I wish to marry you more than nearly anything else in existence entirely because I love you but I know as well that I will never be a piece of property to you and you will always respect my opinion… you have proven that to me on several occasions. I am grateful to be trusted on my merit of thought and not on the gender of my birth.” 

Christopher was touched, brushing his thumb across her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her lips softly.  


	11. Chapter 11

“What do you mean you aren’t going to have a ceremony?” 

Marianne could see her mother behind Mrs Jennings bite her lips to keep from laughing, and Elinor looked up at the ceiling as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the universe. They had made a point of waiting until very close to the date the two of them had set for their union before telling Mrs Jennings that there would be no party. 

Marianne couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “there will be a ceremony. We just do not wish to have a celebration, it will be small…” she looked to Christopher for help. 

“Quaint,” he said, also trying his hardest to keep a smirk from his face. 

Mrs Jennings looked aghast, “John! Did you hear that?”

Sir John seemed to be dozing chin on his chest but woke at her remark. “Wha- I yes, yes of course.” 

“They aren’t going to have a party!” 

Sir John seemed to be at a loss. 

“You will at least invite us, won’t you? To the church?” Mrs Jennings sounded hurt. 

“Yes, of course, we will,” said Colonel Brandon smacking his knee, to alert one of Sir John’s hunting dogs that he would like to pet them. The old dog wandered over, and Christopher began to scratch it behind the ears. 

Mrs Jennings appeared to calm a bit at that, “I have never in my life heard such a thing come from a young lady, that is certainly what every woman looks forward to.” 

Marianne bit her tongue, she was not looking forward to the wedding specifically, she was looking forward to a life as Mrs Christopher Brandon. Time spent with him, no chaperones or watching eyes, just the two of them. In all respects.  At even the thought she felt her cheeks burn a bit and she turned to look out the window and collect herself. That was something that she had thought about, but it hadn’t occurred to her until recently that in the near future she would be sharing a bed with a man. Her mother had when the time came, and they were old enough made Elinor and Marianne aware of such things, though there was nothing so specific. It both excited and unnerved Marianne, for she trusted Christopher but was unsure what exactly she was trusting him with. 

…

Mr Martin came to the Park for dinner one evening and the Dashwoods, Colonel Brandon, as well as the new Ferrars's, were all invited. Marianne had decided that she was not very found of Mr Martin, he seemed very too like Willoughby for her own taste, and it made her anxious. They would have to endure it she assumed as Mr Martin had indeed bought the estate of Willoughby’s relative. Sir John being the oblivious man that he was would only look at it all as another man to go hunting with and talk of dogs. 

As Mr Martin talked of fixing the estate and other such nonsense, Marianne played with her soup. She was aware that should Mr Martin invite his friend Mr Willoughby to his new home it would be very likely that she would see him in the village, she did not exactly know how to feel about such a thing. 

Colonel Brandon seemed to notice her strange behaviour and very subtly touched her foot beneath the table with his boot. Glancing up she saw worry in his eyes, she tried to give him a look to say that all was well, but she wasn’t exactly sure it translated. It was not just this talk about Mr Martin’s new home so close to them. It was that Marianne did not feel well, it was on and off, and her symptoms were aided by various teas and medicinals the Doctor had given her to take, but the fatigue would still sometimes affect her everyday activities. It was very frustrating, for she did not like having to take a break from her piano playing, or not be able to help her mother with chores as she used to.  Even going for a long walk could see her growing dizzy. 

As she sat at the table, her food looked far less than appetising, when she felt as such, food was ever something she wanted to partake in. Elinor seemed to notice her sister’s behaviour and reached discreetly over to move Marianne’s water glass closer to her. Generally, a little extra hydration helped her regain some form of energy and Elinor would not let her forget it. 

Mr Martin seemed to see this exchange over the rim of his wine glass, and he raised a questioning eyebrow toward Marianne. She didn’t know what to make of it and looked down at the table.

“We are prepared for the hunt tomorrow?” Asked Mr Martin. 

It was the beginnings of the autumn season, red and gold dripped from the trees and blanketed the grounds with their leaves, it left the world in a state of chilly beauty, that Marianne for all her love of wild flowers still adored. It also meant that the men were to go off hunting for a few days and that upset her, it meant her Colonel would be away and just before they were to be wed. 

She had done her best not to voice her sadness on this as she knew that he enjoyed hunting and his time with Sir John, she had not been aware though that Mr Martin was also going. 

“Yes, everything is in order.” Sir John replied, grinning at the prospect, steepling fingers under his chin. ”Ferrars, you are  sure you do not wish to attend?”

Edward had already made it very clear that hunting was not something that he enjoyed and would instead stay behind with his new wife. “I thank you again for the offer Sir John, but I must decline, I would likely slow you down.” 

Sir John laughed heartily, “well all right then!” 

Mrs Jennings joined in with the laughing and Marianne had to fight not to cover her ears, she was far to easily irritated at present to be having dinner at the Park. 

“What are we to do without all our men?” Chortled the older lady. 

“What we always do anyway…” Marianne grumbled very softly under her breath so that only Elinor could hear her. For it, she was given a decent jab in the ribs from her sister's elbow. 

“Well good news is that Mr Palmer has joined the hunting party and Charlotte will be staying here at the Park with me! We shall have all the entertainment we need so long as Mrs Ferrars is not a stranger.” She eyed Elinor, not unlike a predatory bird. 

Elinor took a sip of wine, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs Jennings.” 

...

As she had imagined the men had been gone not but a day when Marianne was nearly dragged by her mother to the house, so they could attend whatever gathering Mrs Jennings had put together. Mrs Dashwood insisted that she simply must go. Even Marianne had to admit that getting out of the house might be right. The air had turned so cold already that it was hard for her to go out and walk without her mother fearing she would once again fall ill. So they both followed Margaret toward the house, by the time they reached it Marianne’s cheeks stung with cold and were no doubt bright red. 

Elinor was waiting for them just inside the door. As Mrs Dashwood headed for the parlour and Margaret became distracted by the puppies that had been born only a month earlier, the two older sisters hung back. 

“You look in a foul mood Marianne.” 

Marianne huffed, “that is because I am.”

“Indeed, you know that it will only be more uncomfortable if you do not make the best of it.” 

She rolled her eyes, ringlets bobbing as she shook her head, “yes, so you’ve said all my life, Elinor. Have you ever thought that perhaps I enjoy being a bit bitter sometimes.” 

“I have thought that on more occasions than I care to admit.” 

This brought a smirk to Marianne’s features.

“Come on, let us get on with it.” Taking her arm, Elinor lead them into the room, and Charlotte’s squeals filled the air. 

…

The sun was to be dipping down past the horizon all the women had relaxed a bit. Either quietly reading or working on needlepoint, Margaret was fast asleep on the end of a sofa. Geese beginning to migrate for the winter could be heard outside and the fire crackling only added to the lulling atmosphere. 

All of a sudden there was a crash of the door opening, and heavy footfalls echoed into the house. All the women looked up, even Margaret was started from her slumber. Mrs Jennings got carefully to her feet with surprising grace for such a woman, but before she reached the parlour door, a maid was there looking white as a sheet. 

“The- Sir John is back Ma'mn… uh, the Colonel Brandon m’lady is injured, Elliot has gone to fetch Doctor Burns.” 

Marianne hadn’t even waited for the stammering girl to finish she had thrown down her book and was rushing past the girl so fast, she herself wasn’t sure how she hadn’t tripped over her skirts. As she reached the entrance, It was easy to see Mr Martin and a Mr Palmer carrying Christopher up the stairs. With Elinor and the maid close behind, Marianne took the stair three at a time coming to a stop in the doorway just as they laid him in the closest guest room. Sir John stood inside already, looking down at his friend. 

Pushing past Mr Martin, Marianne was next to Christopher's bed. His face was ashen, and there was a bandage wrapped around his head, dried blood matting bit of his blonde hair. 

“What happened?”

“We were riding near a ravine, one of the hounds slipped into a crack…” Sir John faltered. “We told him not to go after it, but he didn’t want to leave the dog to starve to death.” 

She looked up waiting for Sir John to finish. 

“The rock gave out under him, and he fell quite a ways.” 

Her hand went to her lips, and she closed her eyes, blinking back tears. Marianne could hear Elinor whispering to the maid to fetch fresh water and bandages, then her sister's arms encircled her shoulders. 

“Dearest…” 

“I won’t leave, bring me the water, I will help.”

“But darling, wouldn’t it be best if-.” 

“No!” Marianne opened her eyes and grabbed her beloved's hand, “he did not leave me but to fetch my mother in my time of need, I will do the same.” 

Elinor didn’t argue further. Instead, she whispered with Sir John and Mr Martin about what had happened until the maid arrived with supplies she and Marianne set to work.

…

“He has sustained a few broken ribs on the left side, and that is one fierce head wound, but I should think he will be well soon enough, though he will need quite a bit of rest. I have known the Colonel for years, and that is what will be the hardest for him to achieve, slowing down for a while to heal.” The Doctor turned to Marianne who stood in the doorway. She had put on and apron and tied her hair up with a piece of fabric, so she was better able to help. “I believe Miss Dashwood that you will do best to see that he does not get ahead of himself, yes?”

“Yes, of course, doctor… um, when will he…” She trailed off. 

The Doctor smiled, “he should be awake by morning, get some rest.” Brushing past her he headed for the entrance of the house. 

Marianne continued into the room. Pulling a chair just next to Christopher's bed and taking his hand, she pressed a kiss to the back of it and tried not to cry. A hand on her shoulder made her jump, it was Elinor. 

“Asking you to come away from there and sleep, would be of no use would it?”

“Not at all.” 

“I imagined as such, would you like me to send someone up with tea?” 

Marianne swallowed, “yes, thank you, Elinor.” 

“Dearest wake me if I am needed.” 

“Okay.” 

And Marianne sat at his side, making sure his compress stayed cool, and he did not begin to grow hot with fever. She drank the tea and was able to keep her eyes open for a few hours longer until sleep finally took her by force. 

Waking the next morning to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. Marianne sniffed and rubbed an eye with her fist, adjusting to the light. When she focused, Colonel Brandon was looking at her, seemingly only woken shorty before herself. 

“I should scold you for sleeping in that blasted chair all night long,” he murmured his voice even deeper with sleep and ebbed slightly by pain. 

She felt tears prick at her eyes, so happy she was to see him awake and joking with her, “you could darling, but I would not listen even if by some terrible happenstance you were injured again. I would stay right at your bedside, no matter the uncomfortable chair.” 

He smiled, but it turned to a grimace. 

Quickly she was kneeling near his bedside, “what is it? What can I do? Christopher?”

“I fell from a very tall height, and I am aching that is all love. Speaking of which,” he began to clamour to a sitting position, and Marianne jumped to assist him. When he was settled, he tried again, “I am personally surprised I am not dead.” 

Marianne gasped, “do not utter such a thing!” 

The Colonel chuckled, “apologies.” 

“You have broken ribs, and that head of yours will take some healing. Doctor Burns made it very clear that you are to rest for the foreseeable future.” Placing hands on her hips, Marianne did her best to look intimidating. 

Christopher rolled his eyes, “I am sure that I will be up in no time, after all, I believe there is an event that I am supposed to be attending very soon.” He winked. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it! Until you are well, it is all on hold.” 

Just as he was about to plead his case two maids came bustling in with a basin of water and the other with breakfast. Close behind there was Sir John, Mrs Jennings and it seemed nearly everyone else in the house come to see the invalid. 

Brandon shot a look to Marianne that said their conversation wasn’t over and she merely smiled shaking her head. He then made sure to find out if the dog he had been trying to save was alright and they assured him that she was. Marianne hung back watching his talk with everyone, how grateful she was that he was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the very exciting event for our couple! XOXO


	12. Chapter 12

Ducking beneath a tree branch, Marianne felt the top of it graze her head. She hoped that it hadn’t mussed the hair that Elinor and her mother had so very carefully piled atop her head. Elinor had spent almost an entire night sewing small ribbon flowers to hairpins. Both of those women had been working tirelessly to get everything settled for what was supposed to be her and Colonel Brandon's small gathering, but there were still things to settle apparently. Which meant the morning before the ceremony after being crimped and curled, both her mother and Elinor dozed off in the sitting room, allowing Marianne to send a note up to the park and get away for a moment. The sun was shining through bits of trees as she ran through the brush, stumbling a few times but it did not upset her. Instead, Marianne laughed and continued on, glad that she was only wearing one of her old gowns and not the new one she was to wear to the ceremony. 

They had not seen each other in three days, it seemed that it had been an eternity. Marianne knew it went against some rule for them to see each other before the ceremony, she did not care in the slightest. She needed to see him. 

Following a path down into the thicket of trees where they would not be seen Marianne entered the clearing, looking about for Christopher, but could not find him. She put her hands on her hips and looked about. If he was adhering to the ridiculous custom, she would undoubtedly scream in frustration. Just as she was going to turn about and go storming back up to the cottage, there was a rustle of leaves, and she felt two arms wrap around her waist. 

“Oh!” Marianne squeaked.

“If I am here and you cannot technically see my face, and I cannot see yours that means we are still following the precepts, correct?” Christopher murmured in her ear and Marianne shivered.

Never before had he been so bold, when close to her, but in only a matter of hours they were to be wed, so what really was the question in it? 

“I believe I like the way you think, though I wish to see your sweet face darling.” 

“Soon you shall,” one hand reached down, and a finger brushed over the ring that he had placed there to symbolise his intentions when he asked for her hand. His other hand touched her waist gently but strong enough to keep her from turning. “I cannot allow any superstitious nonsense to get in the way of our happiness.” 

Marianne giggled, “since when do you believe in any of that? As you said nonsense.” 

“I am not taking any chances.” Brushing a soft kiss over the back of her neck exposed just under her hair, he then whispered in her ear. “I will see you soon.” 

Marianne whirled around promptly, but she barely saw the red tail of his coat as he disappeared into the trees. 

…

It was the happiest blur of his life. Usually, Colonel Brandon would say he was an attentive man, but the moment he stood there in the front of the church and the doors opened to reveal Marianne he was lost to anything but her. It was hard to say precisely, but she was somehow more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. From that moment, throughout the ceremony he was barely able to utter the words needed when provoked, he was wholly and utterly smitten. 

Marianne felt something similar, but instead, she took in everything. It was all moments that she wanted to document and take down in her memory for as long as she was alive. The flowers that had been placed in the church by Elinor, her mother turning from the front row with tears in her eyes, and Christopher. Dressed in his army coat, the Crimson brought out his hazel eyes and the highlights in his hair. When she stood next to him, and they listened to Edward, Marianne could smell pine and perhaps jasmine emanating from him, it was intoxicating. 

As they followed by others emptied out of the church, Marianne realised that she would have a headache later. It was just impossible to keep from smiling, and her jaw was beginning to ache. They climbed into the carriage that was to take them to the house the small number of guests would follow behind. She was grateful for a short moment of peace, tucked into the velvet cushions and her arm in Christopher's, just the two of them for a moment. 

“I believe that I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life.” 

This made Marianne blush and grin up at him, “that would certainly make two of us.” 

“You are my wife,” he paused and looked out the window for a moment, the rest of his statement coming out a bit choked. “I never thought I would say that, and certainly not about someone I actually loved.” 

Marianne used her hand to gently touch his face, turning it back to her, “and who loves you back. You make me out to seem this absolute saint for adoring you as I do, when in fact I am not the one who is so wholly selfless and giving.” 

He went to interrupt, but she placed a finger to his lips. “My love do not try to dissuade me I am set. I cannot believe after all that has happened that I was to gain the affection of such a wonderful man.” 

Christopher kissed her finger, still wanting to object to her praise but deciding that at this moment he would take the compliment and enjoy it. 

...

The autumn air was chilled but not harsh at that time of day, and the sky was gracing them with wispy white clouds framed by blue sky, there would be no rain. Servants had lit fires outside to keep the area warm and the number of guests they had invited gathered in the garden behind Deleford for refreshment. 

Marianne had been concerned initially with the idea. They had vehemently not wanted a party, but with some convincing from her mother they had decided this would suit them fine. So long as they were not the complete centre of attention and could enjoy themselves. It was beautiful of Mrs Dashwood and Elinor to take the time to create precisely what Marianne had wanted, and she realised that she must do something very kind for them when everything had settled down. 

Marianne and Christopher had decided not to take a honeymoon as the plan at the Park, and of course, the cottage as well was to go to town for Christmas, and that was travel enough for the new Brandons. Marianne much preferred to get used to her new home and take in the last bits of fall before the snows came and they were in the city. As much as she had been so wholly horrified at the beginning of moving to Devonshire, it was now her home now, and she loved it very dearly. It was of course where she had found him. 

It would have been easy to split from each other and speak to guests, but that was not on the agenda. Marianne kept a hold of her new husband's arm, and he held her just as tightly. Everyone was content, even Mrs Jennings wasn’t complaining about the lack of dancing; instead, she was keeping up a jolly conversation with Sir John, both of whom had already finished their glasses of wine. Eliza and little Thomas were talking with Mrs Dashwood, Elinor and Edward and Eliza seemed to be enjoying herself. Marianne’s only concern as they walked about and accepted congratulations was how they would all get home as Christopher had promised. It was quickly apparent that he had a plan. 

As the sun dropped, lower and servants began to clear the area, helping guests to their carriages. Soon it was just Marianne’s family, Eliza and Thomas that remained. Elinor gave her sister a squeeze as a servant was helping their mother and Margaret into a carriage. Edward and Elinor didn’t live far and said they would walk home together. 

“Goodbye Mamma, Margaret I will see you very soon,” Marianne held tight to her mother's hand for a moment somewhat overcome with emotion. She very much wanted to be Mrs Brandon, the idea of it made her giddy, but there was something heartbreaking about leaving her home and everything that she was used to. Everything would be new and different, she would not wake up and see her mother or sister right away, that felt strange and foreign. 

As the carriage rode away, Elinor and Marianne walked a ways ahead of Christopher and Edward towards the path the couple would take home. 

“Do you have any questions?” Whispered Elinor.

“Hmmm?” Marianne had been enjoying the quiet evening noises, but her sister's voice brought reality back nearly instantly. “Oh… well, I don’t believe so… um, I think that… well…”

“Marianne, you have nothing to worry about Colonel Brandon is a wonderful man.”

“I know that I am not worried in the slightest,” she lied.

Elinor knew her words weren’t exact but the men were upon them, and it was time for the Ferrars’s to depart. “Goodnight!” They called taking hands and heading away to the small parish home. 

Marianne watched them for a moment, then slowly turned to look at Christopher. “Hello.” 

“Hello,” he whispered with a strained smile, there was that self-deprecating part of him that worried that she would change her mind and hate him for placing her in this position. 

“I love you,” she said. 

He let out a long breath in relief, “I love you, more than I could ever express in words, for, unfortunately, I have not the exemplary talents of the bard. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art-.” 

She giggled cutting him off as she took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. 

“Shall we?” he asked. 

Marianne nodded following his lead toward the house. Though they had waited for Christopher to be mostly healed and in turn, the wedding had happened a week later than anticipated he still had to be careful, and Marianne made very sure that he was. This both made Colonel Brandon happy and somewhat suffocated. He loved that Marianne cared so deeply about him, but it was also frustrating beyond belief that he had not the ability to dote on her as he should on their wedding day, as he wanted to. 

As they reached the house, he felt his ribs protest at all of his movement of the day and his shoulder which had already given him trouble at the best of times had suffered from his tumble. The change in the season made old and new injuries ache and all of this coupled with the fact that he had just married a woman much younger than he. It brought into stark realisation that he was old and his beautiful new wife was not. How had he thought that marrying her would not take away her youth? He was not a young man in the slightest obviously. 

Marianne seemed to notice her husbands descent into a melancholy mood and tried not to worry herself what he was thinking of. Insecurities ran through her mind as she thought of first loves and what ifs. Was he regretting betraying his Eliza by marrying her? Did he wish he had not? Marianne unlike the Colonel was better able to brush off ridiculous thoughts and took solace in the facts that laid before her; he had always been very apparent that he loved her, even when she did not love him in return. He had told just today many times and showed her as well that he was deeply besotted with her, Marianne must trust that he would not and could not change that fundamental thing that they had. 

One of the maids greeted them on their way inside, taking Marianne’s shawl and Christopher's coat. 

“Would the Mrs like me to fetch tea?” Asked the young maid with a smile. 

Marianne looked up from the thread she had been toying with on her gown, her face flushing red at for the first time being looked at as the woman of this house. “I suppose, yes.” She looked to Christopher for guidance, but he seemed to be oblivious to the interaction and nearly kept walking to the parlour. “Thank you,” Marianne  murmured to the maid, “what is your name?”

“Anne, Mlady.” 

“Anne, lovely to officially meet you.” 

Anne made a small curtsy and hurried a way to get the tea. While Marianne followed Christopher into the parlour, frowning at his behaviour,  her own confidence of whether he was truly happy waning. 

He was seated near the fire, chin resting on a fist, staring intently into the flames. 

“Love?” Marianne started, coming to stand near his chair. “Have a done something to upset you?”

This made Colonel Brandon look up quickly, “what? No, my beloved of course not!” He reached for her hand and pressed it firmly to his lips. 

“I am sorry, you just seem to be upset about something,” she prodded wanting him to finish the conversation she had begun and perhaps tell her what was on his mind. 

Christopher sighed, “I am not upset, simply trying to work my mind around something.” 

“That would be?”

He chuckled, playing with her fingers that were now clasped in his hand. “Nothing that is so pressing it should cause you concern.”

Marianne almost scolded him but was interrupted by Anne returning with tea, she placed the tray down and once again left them to themselves. 

“If it is of concern to you then it is also to me.” 

“Marianne, it is nothing really,” he had stood and was making her and himself a cup of tea as they spoke. 

How could one man be so absolutely thoughtful and sweet but so incredibly infuriating as well? It was maddening. She kept silent when he handed her the tea and quietly sat in the other armchair stewing over how she may get him to speak. 

“My mother had a friend,” she started. 

“Hmmm?”

“When I was young, this friend had a daughter my age, we would often play together while our mothers discussed. One day this woman asked tearfully why my mother and father were happy in their marriage, no doubt she and her own husband were not doing as well in their marriage. My mother replied without hesitation that it was because they told each other everything.” 

Christopher who had gone back to staring at the fire looked up abruptly. 

Marianne continued, “She has never said that to Elinor or I directly, I think partially because she was not certain that we would find husbands that would be so candid with us and perhaps she meant to spare our feelings. The thing is I believe that we did indeed find husbands such as that and I think starting off like this is not a good step  forward.” He had always said he wanted her to speak her mind and so she had. 

Christopher’s mouth opened and then closed, she was of course completely right. 

Standing Marianne went to him and was about to kneel next to his chair, but Christopher had other ideas. At risk of being too shocking as they had only just been married that day, he reached out and grabbed her waist pulling her to sit on his lap. Marianne gasped but didn’t seem to wish to object. 

“Would I at all be able to make up for this blunder by saying that I am sorry alone?”

She pretended to think for a moment, “of course!”

“I am sorry.” 

“Thank you, now what is on your mind?”

Again he sighed. “I am in pain,” this seemed to startle her, and she tried to remove herself from his lap. “No, no” he chuckled keeping her held tight. “You are not at all hurting me. What I mean is that it is difficult to for me to come to terms with my age… and especially with it in relation to you. I am not a young man and... “ he groaned trying to find the right words was difficult. “And I do not want you to ever feel impeded by the fact that I am older than you.”

Marianne took his face between her hands and looked directly into his eyes. “I do not want a young man. I want your own wealth of experiences and life, you understand who I am and are not bogged down with your own selfish desires as so many young men are. I never have and never will feel that you could give me anything less than a younger man, in fact, I believe that I have gained far more than I ever could have, not because of your age but of who you are, which my dear Colonel is exactly why I love you.” 

She pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply. Christopher returned her affections and began to in his mind realise where they stood together, they were a united force and they would continue to be so. They had never shared such a deep kiss, when they pulled away he was breathing heavily, and Marianne’s neck had gone very pink. 

“Shall… should we retire?” He asked softly, this time leaning in to kiss her chin, then her lips.

“Yes,” she murmured breathlessly. 


	13. Chapter 13

They stood before a doorway, Colonel Brandon barring the entrance with his tall frame. Taking in a deep breath and placing a hand on the knob he looked to Marianne. 

“I… had them prepare you a room. I was not certain exactly what you would wish our sleeping arrangements to be.” 

Blonde eyebrows quirked up, she had always known that he parents slept separately, but for some reason, she thought that perhaps she and Christopher were different, closer than that somehow. But maybe that was just simply the way wealthy men and ladies lived their lives. Edward and Elinor, she knew shared a room, but that was because of the size of their small home. Here at Deleford, there was no reason for the two of them to share, with so many rooms at their disposal, it could even be perceived as a waste perhaps. Yet the proposition made her sad, she had never slept next to anyone but her sisters, still she had thought the idea of sleeping near Christopher to be comforting. Especially in a house, she had never lived in before. 

It was a moment before she noticed that his brows had knit together in concern at her length of time answering him. “Well, I suppose I don’t know. If you wish me to have my own rooms, that would be alright.” 

Brandon surprised even himself stating so bluntly, “I do not wish you to have your own rooms in the slightest, I very much want to share the entirety of my life with you and I believe that includes such basic things.” He paused then added, “I would understand completely if you wish to have your own space, I would obviously support it fully.” 

Marianne grinned stepping forward to wrap arms around his trim waist, “I wish to share your quarters my love.” 

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief into her hair and pressed a kiss there. “That makes me incredibly happy.” 

“I have to agree, I thought for a moment that I was going to have to sleep alone for the first time in this gigantic house I do not know fully yet. It sounds rather unappealing if you ask me.” She grinned up at him. 

“It is, believe me.” 

It was meant as a jest, but Marianne couldn’t help feeling that such a comment seemed sad. She wanted to cry over just how sad it must have been for him to have spent so much of his life alone. Without anyone around to just be there for him. She had always had her sisters and her mother, her father, had been present if at least a bit. Colonel Brandon had been left to his own devices after fighting in a war that made Marianne want to make up for all that time all at once. 

“So? Are you going to be showing me to our rooms?” 

“Ah, yes, I suppose that would be the next on the agenda would it not?”

He had been lost in thought and nearly drowning in ecstasy at her lovely scent so close and without fear that it would be removed from him by propriety or other. He led them to another staircase, a much wider one. Every so often he would pause in a corner and pull her close, kissing her softly or sometimes with more passion. Either way, it made Marianne giggle, she enjoyed it immensely when he was so playful, and without care, he deserved it. 

“How are you feeling today my darling?” she gestured at his body with a hand. 

“I feel a bit stiff after such a long day, but I think that I am sufficiently on the mend. The worst is absolutely behind me I have to say.” 

Marianne studied the set of his shoulders as they reached a set of double doors that must be their destination. He seemed to be alright. Usually, when that injury was bothering him most, she could tell as he favoured the one shoulder over the other. Even when simply standing. 

He opened the doors to reveal a considerable space, not occupied by much furniture other than essentials but clean cream walls and big windows showed the room to be very splendid and Marianne did a double take when she saw the bed, a deep mahogany headboard against the wall. It was utterly massive. She gaped. 

“Has this been your room all along?”

“Hmm? Yes, ever since I came home from the army.” 

“That bed is very large.” She was still staring at it, piled up with what looked to be the softest quilts and fluffy pillows that looked equally tactile. 

Christopher rumbled a chuckle and hugged her from behind, “yes, well now at least it will not seem so big with you to share it with me.” 

This made her grin widely, then she turned in his arms to see his eyes. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he murmured back, leaning in for a kiss that once it began, swelled and escalated in fervour and emotion. 

Marianne hadn’t prior to Christopher kissed anyone, and even their recent kisses had not been very bold. Marianne had always assumed she knew what it entailed and how it would feel to be kissed deeply, she had been wrong. Christopher took his time with her lips, nipping softly at them before smoothing over them with his own. Very very gently he used his tongue to caress her bottom lip in her surprise at how pleasant such a thing felt she opened her mouth to him. Proceeding to explore her mouth tentatively and always slowly enough that she even knew he was making sure she could stop him at any moment. Why on earth would she want to?

The length of time they were stood there kissing each other in their new room she had not the slightest idea, but Marianne was aware that the sun had fully set out the window and the room had darkened. Finally pulling away, blushing prettily Marianne tucked a curl that had come loose from her hair behind her ear, the ring on her hand caught the light and sparkled. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked his voice soft so as not to ruin the beautiful quiet of their moment. 

“No, are you?” 

“No.” 

“Oh!” Her blonde eyebrows shot toward her hairline as she remembered something, “my things, my clothes- I didn’t even think of the fact that I would need them tonight. How silly-I.” 

Christopher took her hand and pulled her toward a door near a very large dresser. Opening it, he gestured for her to enter and he followed after finding a candle to take with them to light the ones inside. When he had Marianne could see that the room was like the dressing room at their old home only much more extensive, on one side there were his things hung or folded neatly, and the other was empty but below it her trunks… the small amount of clothing she owned sat in them on the floor. 

“I wondered if perhaps in the midst of all the preparing you had forgotten, and I had them brought up during the celebration. I hope that is acceptable.”

Marianne turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his chest looking up at him. “Very very acceptable, you are amazing.” 

The Colonel looked away in embarrassment, “I am far from that.” Pulling a white item of clothing that must have been his night clothes he turned for the door. “If you would like to prepare for bed, I will leave you to do so,” he smiled softly at her and again Marianne could not control the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. 

She nodded, and he exited to change himself. Marianne had her dress, as well as shoes and stockings removed when she realised that her stays were not going to be easy to get off on her own. Sighing and reaching for the loops was to no avail, it just left her panting a bit from the effort and even more frustrated. 

There was a soft knock at the door and a tentative voice, “Marianne?” 

“Christopher… I cannot seem to remove my stays myself,” pulling herself up from the floor where she had been trying in vain to get them off from a different angle, and without thinking too profoundly, she pulled the door open. 

He had removed his outerwear and now stood before her in his breeches, no doubt not wanting to entirely remove them and terrify her as well as a plain white sleep shirt. It cut lower in the front than his others and made her suck in a bit of air unintentionally at seeing so much of his flesh. 

His own breath was taken away from him in seeing her in such a state of undress. Of course, she was covered by her chemise and the stays, but the cotton fabric was thin and only reached under her knees. Colonel Brandon tried to keep his eyes from travelling down her body, but it was no use. When they returned to her face, she was smiling carefully her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

“I- I will go see if one of the maids is available to help,” he was about to turn, but Marianne grabbed his arm to stop him.

“It isn’t very arduous, you could just do it… then we need not bother the servants.” 

This made him exhale loudly in a whoosh. “You're certain?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes of course.” 

She turned, and Christopher had to fight everything inside not to groan when he saw the exposed skin of her back. The neckline of her chemise exposed the small bumps of her spine and shoulder blades to his eyes. Reaching out shaking hands he began to slowly undo her stays, trying very hard not to make her uncomfortable. 

Marianne was very much enjoying his hands on her, and every time he exhaled she felt it on her neck, making her blood race and her heart quicken. This was what it felt like to want someone she was satisfied. 

With her stays removed she now stood only in her shift, there was a small part of her that thought she should be self-conscience, all her life being told that no man should look on her as such but at this moment, wrong or right she wanted him to look at her. There had been a kind of power Marianne felt at the look in his eyes when she let him in the dressing room. Like she was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. That was a power she could get drunk off of. 

Slowly turning to face him Marianne stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest, finger splayed out. He looked shocked but not unhappy by this gesture so Marianne pressed closer so that her own chest could brush his. 

He let out a small noise and closed his eyes, swallowing. 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its evil to leave it there but I really wanted the next bit to be one chapter of its own. XOXO


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, not TOO evil haha! Obviously, this is where the mature rating comes in hehe.   
> Thank you for all the wonderful comments of the last chapter! XOXO

Swallowing hard Colonel Brandon nodded a bit jerkily. Taking his hand, Marianne started into the bedroom. He stopped her just before she reached the end of the bed and pulled her against his chest. Bringing a hand to her hair Christopher put his lips next to her ear, planting a soft kiss and murmuring. “May I take your hair down?”

She nearly forgot to nod as she was so lost in his touch, but was able to manage a small, “yes.” 

This was something Colonel Brandon had dreamed of. Whenever they were in close distance, he could smell the pleasant scent of that beautiful golden hair. Since even the first time they met, he had wanted more than anything to touch it and touch it he did. Carefully removing each pin as to not hurt her. He administered kisses to her neck and the beginnings of her spine as he did so. Once down her back he ran his fingers through the ringlets, loosening them and sighing at the astonishing feeling of it in his hands.

Marianne was equally entranced by his actions, her eyes long since closing as she took in his ministrations. He was so gentle and careful, treating something so basic as her hair almost reverently. His soft kisses made her feel feverish and as he pressed his nose into her hair, hands coming to rest on her hips a warmth spread in her belly. One that she had never felt before. Marianne had it seemed no control over it, she released a sigh audibly from her lips. To which she heard him chuckle in her ear, then he stepped back to place the pins on a table nearby. 

“Thank you, love, that felt absolutely divine.” 

“Any time.” 

There was a bit of silence when he turned to look at her, not awkward exactly but hesitant, unknowing of where this was going to lead, or what would be said next. Colonel Brandon was in the candlelight able to see the outline of Marianne through her shift. Where her curves dipped and flowed… he couldn't help but look, though when his eyes did drop to her form he, quickly as he was able peered back at her eyes. She was studying his action, looking a bit calculating. 

Her face set in a decision when she opened her mouth to speak, “I want you to look.”

Christopher’s eyebrows shot up. 

Marianne smiled shyly, “I want you to look at me… Every time you do, you always look away, like I will catch you, I thought I would just come out with it.” 

His mouth fell open at how abrupt and honest she had been of course that was something he loved about her. Marianne never was able to hold back her thoughts, and he cherished her all the more for it. So he did as she allowed, eyes dropping from hers down her creamy neck and expanse of her chest where the neckline was so loose that it had fallen over one shoulder. Still, in the candlelight he could see her breasts through the thin fabric, where they dipped at her waist, then her full hips trailing into thighs. He wanted to let out the most ungentlemanly of groans but was able to hold himself back. 

Without stopping to think he walked up to her, fingers tangling themselves in her hair, he kissed her deeply and passionately. Unlike all the others he was there and present, untamed with that kiss. Exploring her mouth and nipping at her lips. His rogue hand Brandon placed at the small of her back and drug her closer to his body, to which Marianne squeaked softly then moaned into his mouth as she felt his chest brush against the hard peaks of her nipples below her shift. How could something so simple feel so amazing?

Finally pulling away he breathed hard and deep, pressing their foreheads together he kissed her nose softly, and Marianne smiled at the exchange. 

“Marianne?”

“Christopher?” 

“I would very much like to take you to bed, is that acceptable to you?” Direct, to the point, he wanted a firm acceptance before this went any further.

Marianne looked up at him through her lashes, “yes.” 

“Good,” stooping down he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed that until tonight had only been his and now was to be shared with the most stunning woman in the world. 

Marianne made a noise of surprise, giggling until she was laid on the bed and Christopher came to sit on the edge just near her legs. That was when all her courage began to wane and doubt circled in. What if he didn’t like her body? What if she somehow displeased him? What if…? Her thoughts seemed to be sensed by him, and Colonel Brandon put a stop to it immediately. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever beheld, I am certain. I saw the most magnificent sights when I was in the Indies and yet nothing could possibly compare to the vision that I see before me.”

Blushing now from head to toe Marianne was sure, she felt tears prick in her eyes, she loved this man with such passion that she could scarcely believe only a short season ago she would not give him the time of day.  

There was no response for what he had said it was far too beautiful. Marianne would need to later force him to retract his earlier statement of not being a poet, it was utterly impossible that he was not just so. 

She reached for him then, wanting to feel his lips on hers and wanting to feel his body as well. Newfound sensations making her wish for more discovery. Christopher allowed her to pull him down and he was careful to let his body to hover over hers as their lips met again. This time he allowed her to do the exploring, she got used to his mouth and his tongue, using her own to tease him. Ever so softly he placed his palm on her ribs, he could feel the quick inhalations of breath as she now sought out his neck as he had done to her earlier. Marianne pressed herself involuntarily up toward his palm and Christopher moved his hand to her breast, before pausing to ascertain that it was alright to proceed. His answer was given in the form of her breaking away with a wide-eyed, lust filled stare her lips between teeth. 

Gently beginning massaging her, he watched as her head fell back to the bed and her breathing became even more laboured. He, himself could barely keep his breath in order. Thankfully she was not pushing him away but seemed to be very much enjoying his touch. Gingerly he leaned down, adding a bit of the pressure of his body to her own whilst kissing at her collarbone and travelling down until he could put his mouth to another breast over her shift. Running his tongue over the hardened peak of her nipple.

A shiver ran through Marianne at the sensation he had just given her, her head came off the mattress to look at him wide-eyed. Was this… what being with a man should feel like? Every indication she had ever been given suggested the act was a chore, something that must be done. Never had she expected Christopher to create these sensations inside her. 

Pausing as he saw her staring at him, Christopher stopped what he was doing and pulled back. “Did I- is this not pleasing you? As I said, you only need to say the word and I shall-.” 

Marianne did not let him finish what he was about to say instead she boldly reached for the ribbon at the neck of her chemise and undid it. Allowing the fabric to fall lower and expose her bare breasts to him. 

Colonel Brandon’s mouth went very dry. Good god, he was in heaven he was satisfied. With a soft groan, he went back to his former place, laving at her chest and then pressing kisses to her newly exposed flesh. The sounds that Marianne was making could not have been ladylike in the slightest, but the way Christopher reacted to her soft moans reassured her that he very much liked it. 

His ministrations were wonderful, but Marianne quickly began to be curious of him as well, something was calling her to remove his clothing as well, to see him as she was now her shift around her hips. Their mouths came together, and she took the opportunity to reach for the hem of his shirt fisting it in her hands and tugging upward as far as she could in the awkward position she was in. He seemed to understand and pulled back to remove it entirely for her and toss it to the other side of the bed. 

Looking back he saw her gaping at him, for a moment he wanted to cover himself. Christopher Brandon had never been terribly uncomfortable with his body, it was just that. Rarely other than the beginning days in the army had any woman seen it, and it really hadn’t mattered what they thought. It served its function, with only his occasional aches and pains but now with this other worldly human beneath him, he felt incredible inadequate and perhaps a bit shy.

Then Marianne smiled, her cheeks colouring but her face showing that she appreciated his body. Reaching out she sat up with him her feet planted on either side of his waist, so very close to being in his lap. Her fingertips traced the muscles of his chest and abdomen, surrendering to her exploration he closed his eyes and hummed softly. Her hands on him was intoxicating. Christopher had to inhale sharply through his nose, and after a moment he couldn’t take it, in a quick motion he had pulled her entirely in his lap and was at her lips again. This time one hand tangled in her hair, the other pulled at her waist so he could feel the heat of her core his stiffened member. It took him a moment to notice that Marianne had frozen in his arms. 

“Chris- I,” she started. 

“I’m sorry, please we can slow-.” 

Once again to his surprise, she did not let him finish and instead kissed his lips firmly, “that is not what I was going to say, my god man could you not bound to so many conclusions without allowing me to voice my thoughts?” She raised a delicate eyebrow at him, their faces were still only inches apart. 

Thoroughly scolded Christopher waited for her to speak her mind and tried to ignore the throbbing he felt physically and mentally, only to see her pause. 

Tracing circles with her fingertips on his shoulder and her face beginning to turn pink she tried again. “As you know… or I assume you know, I have had little… experience with such things, um I-” she looked into his hazel eyes and watched the warmth and love swirl inside the shades of green and gold, she could tell him anything. “I want… very much want to continue, I need you to guide me.” 

Christopher knew this was the ultimate form of trust he could ever hope to gain and he didn’t have the words to respond only nodded with tears in his eyes that he quickly blinked away. Running a thumb over her chin, he very gently kissed her again, slowly, sensually applying his mouth to hers. Just as he had before, he very carefully brought his hand to her hips and then allowed them to travel to the tops of her thighs. Her chemise had ridden up and the fabric pooled around her hips barely covering her womanhood. Christopher rubbed softly over her legs moving his hands up every so often as he continued to kiss her lips. After a while he allowed his mouth to run over her chin and onto the expanse of her throat, nipping softly and receiving in return the most delicate whimper. 

Over the fabric that covered her, he carefully placed his palm on her over her mound, feeling the sharp inhale of air she made at that, there was no protest, so he continued. Very carefully rubbing with the flat of his palm and hearing Marianne sigh in pleasure as he did. When she rocked her hips involuntarily over his hand, Christopher knew it was time to move forward. Sliding one hand under the cotton fabric to her hip and the other he took to her entrance, pausing over her warm flesh to make sure she did not wish him to stop. Glancing at her, he saw her eyes were closed and lips again between teeth. So he began to do his best to pleasure her, taking his time allowing her room to stop him. Instead, she moaned and threw her head back as his fingers dipped inside her. 

Marianne could not think of anything but his hands on her and the molten roiling in her belly. This was exquisite, there was nothing in the world that felt like this. She gulped in air and couldn’t help the sounds that escaped her. The tightening in her core was becoming more and more apparent, she wasn’t certain how or why it felt so, but all she could do was hope that his touch would force it to give way and it did. All of a sudden the pleasure she felt burst forth and spiralled into something else entirely. Marianne saw light dance behind her eyelids as sensation took completely over her. For a moment she was not aware of anything. Then gasping she opened eyes to see Christopher holding her up as she surely would have fallen had he not, and studying her with playful eyes. Marianne’s face was hot, was this how her body was meant to react? It felt natural, but surely this made her wanton or…? 

Adjusting them, so they both laid back on the mattress Brandon placed his hand on her cheek and murmured softly, not for the first time that night, “I love you.” 

Marianne’s doubts melted, this was meant to be this way, she could feel it, worry she might later, but for now, all she could do was yield further into his embrace. “I love you so much.” 

With this discovery of pleasure her curious mind continued to plague her, and after a bit of more heavy kissing and touching, she allowed her hand to drift lower. She had a fair idea of male anatomy and decided that she wished to know more. Christopher was surprised to feel Marianne’s hand at the buttons of his breeches. Pulling away from the kiss he looked into her eyes, of course, he wanted this, but he also wanted her to be as comfortable as possible with every step. 

Marianne undid a button and nodded to him. Pulling her into another kiss he finished undoing the buttons himself and pushed his trousers down his legs as returning to face her Marianne had also removed her shift entirely and had adjusted herself onto her back in the middle of the bed. God, she was beautiful. Coming to hover over her again, Colonel Brandon brought his mouth to a peak of her breast, his hand reaching between them to make sure that she was ready for him. 

Marianne had taken stock of her new husband's naked form and decided that it was more agreeable than she had previously thought possible. As he lit another fire in her belly, she found herself wishing for more, she wanted him, needed to feel him against her… inside her. Raising shaking hands to his hips, she pulled him closer, and Christopher looked into her eyes for full consent. Marianne nodded and very very gently he brought their bodies together. 

It was a bit uncomfortable at first, but any pain was eased by the look of pure pleasure that came over her lover’s face before he kissed her softly. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered against her mouth. 

“Yes,” she replied. 

With that out of the way, Colonel Brandon began to move again slowly, taking time, allowing her to adjust to this new sensation and feeling. It wasn’t long before he saw the telltale signs of her arousal growing. His own had not paused, and he could barely think how he would bring her to full satisfaction again without falling over that cliff himself too early. Marianne moaned as he touched her breasts and kissed her neck, there was something so incredibly perfect about them together like this. It was meant to be, it was exactly how it should be. 

If Marianne had known just how wonderful it would feel to be with him like this, she would have asked to get married the day after he proposed. Christopher was pushing her higher with every movement and no matter what she tried there was no stopping the build that started in her lower stomach and travelled all the way through her, to her very toes, his mouth on her chest only added to the feeling, soon that wave she had experienced before was crashing over her again. 

Brandon seeing her release coming put fingers between them to add to her pleasure, as she reached its peak and called out his name there was nothing left for him to hold onto he fell over the edge with her, into the bliss that only she could provide.


	15. Chapter 15

Sun flitted outside her eyelids, and Marianne knew that it must be well into the morning. Pinching her eyes closed tighter she stretched a bit moaning at the soreness of her body. Groping with her hand, she finally came into contact with the bare chest of her husband, which she found out last night was sprinkled with a touch of hair that she now ran her fingers over. Opening one eye Marianne could see that he was still asleep, but her touch had him smiling softly. Taking this moment to study him if only a bit, she couldn’t help but notice once again that her initial assessment of him when they first met had been all wrong. Yes, he was older than her, you couldn't deny it, but he was fitter than his clothes suggested. The muscles of his chest were well defined and tapered into a trim waist. Just now the sheets were slung over his hips, just covering what lay below the line of his hips. 

Marianne turned on her side, bushing and thinking. Mornings, she found were the best time to lose oneself in thought and reflection. Many times she would wake earlier than Elinor just to lay awhile allowing her thoughts free reign to do as they pleased, without any pressure. Only now she thought about the night before, the gentleness that Christopher had bestowed her with. She had never expected him to be as such. Of course, Marianne had always known that he was unlike other men, that was obvious. He felt so much more than any other she had come in contact with, so much so that on occasion it rivalled herself. That made her fearful for she knew it made him easy to hurt. Though Marianne had absolutely no intention of hurting him, she was not so naive to think that they would never have a fight. That was impossible, Lord knew she had a temper. When such a time came, she would need to remember that. 

Laying with a man had always been explained to her as something uncomfortable and inconvenient. It was off-limits outside of marriage and inside of it, it was a chore. Not the most appealing of things for a young woman with no real idea of the fundamentals of such things to hear. That had most certainly not been her own experience. It had been wonderful, exhilarating, freeing and with all her heart and mind she craved to do it again. It had seemed to her that Christopher had been equally enraptured by the experience, but she could not be certain without him openly saying it, and they had both promptly fallen asleep. Was it wrong of her to be already consumed by the idea of having him… inside her again? 

Frustrated she flopped over onto her back the covers pulled up under her chin. This was supposed to be a part of marriage yes? Of creating a family? And yet everyone treated it as some kind of giant secret, not to talk about outside of the confines of bedroom whether happy or not. She hated that, utterly ridiculous! She blew out a breath in anger or other that coupled with her violent falling back on the bed seemed to have roused the very man her thoughts were consumed by. 

Colonel Brandon groaned a bit yawning and opening his eyes, squinting at the light that encompassed the room. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice was deeper, from sleep she assumed, it only added to pleasant ache in Marianne's lower belly. 

It seemed as if he might be about to say something else but she could not wait and met his lips with her own, immediately seeking more from him, of course, he gave it readily to her. There was no possibility that Christopher could or would ever deny her. Despite what Marianne thought the Colonel held his own reservations, about how she would react to intimacy with him. The only other times he had been with women were at the beginning of his military carreer and nothing serious of course. It was a way to put Eliza from his mind, that was all. A way to lose himself. In marriage, it was a completely separate thing entirely there was the possibility that he would not please her or that she would hate it as many women seemed to. Though Brandon had more than a hunch that was due to lack of consideration from their husbands, or social norms. Either way, this was something that he very much wanted to share with his Marianne, if she for some reason did not wish to, he would respect it, absolutely. Though not thinking of her in that way, might prove challenging on his part. She was just too… her. Marianne Dash- Brandon was perfect. 

This seemed to be a good sign. Waking to Marianne already wanting his lips was at the very least easing his thoughts on that. God, she was soft and warm, and indeed it was a crime that it had taken this long to have her next to him. In his bed. He should have asked her to marry him far… she hadn’t wanted him earlier Christopher realised. As much as it terrified him, there was still the possibility that she would stop wanting him. THAT was not something to think about now, now he would enjoy her attentions. 

“Yes, it is a good morning!” She said slightly out of breath as she pulled away. Her face had become quite red, and Colonel Brandon had never seen her this early in the morning. Marianne’s long hair now down and splayed out over the pillow was sticking out here or there and he noticed that her face seemed to be a bit puffy from sleep. Christopher loved it, entirely. It was precisely what he wished, to see her as no one else did. Beautiful and just for him. God, was he not the most fortunate man ever to exist? 

“My love?” Marianne had become concerned at his gawking, taking to raising the blanket higher and touch her face nervously. 

He did not give her a moment more to feel self-conscience instead he attacked her mouth once again. It went on like that for what seemed to be hours, the two of them, nowhere to be nothing to be doing. 

Though they both wished to, neither of them pressed for more than their languid kisses. After a while Marianne’s stomach growled, she blushed, and Christopher chuckled at her embarrassment, kissing her cheek. 

“Shall I call for some food?” 

“You wish to eat up here?” She asked curious. 

“I wish for whatever you want.” 

Marianne smiled mischievously, “I think that sounds very nice, indeed.” 

He got up and for the first time since the night before, when the bedding dropped did she see him again. His back turned, Christopher bent to get his discarded sleep shirt, and she was able to admire the way his muscles moved as he did so. Perhaps also how they tapered down and showed the muscles of his buttocks, presumably from so much riding. Marianne blushed furiously red at her own thoughts. 

“What would you like?” he turned now with the shirt covering him, Marianne had to fight to compose herself.

“Oh anything, I am not feeling picky love.” Then as he headed to the door, she called out, “tea, though please.” 

Opening it and giving a comical bow Colonel Brandon grinned and jested, “yes, m’lady.”  

When he was out the door Marianne sunk into the mattress feeling slightly boneless and very comfortable. So much so that she dozed off, to be awakened when she heard the soft clatter of a tea tray on the nightstand and the smell of fresh baked goods.

He had brought the most lovely looking pastries that no doubt were freshly made by the kitchen staff as well as a steaming pot of tea and slices of various autumnal fruits. They sat together and began to eat, there was one pastry covered with a gooey drizzle of honey, Marianne had the oddest urge to lift it to his lips. Deciding to act on bravery she did just that, raising the tart she pressed it to his mouth and watched in a bit of awe at him taking a bite. For some reason, that coil in her belly tightened all the more at seeing this from him. A bit of honey dripped onto his chin, taking a hand to his cheek Marianne leaned forward and kissed the sticky sweetness away, then travelled down his neck with her mouth. A groan erupted from his throat, and he pulled her into his lap. 

The movement allowed the sheet to fall from her body and expose the expanse of her chest to his eyes. Oh, god she would be the absolute end of him Brandon was satisfied. Taking a page from her book, Christopher dipped a finger in the icing on a sticky bun and lifted it to her mouth. Tentatively Marianne wrapped her lips around his finger sucking the icing and releasing his digit with a small noise. He decided the only way he would know if she wished to continue this exploration would be to try something else, see how she reacted to him. Dropping his head to her breast, he took the peak into his mouth and allowed for the first time his teeth to graze it. 

Marianne gasped and arched up at him, that was an excellent sign. Christopher did it again. This time she grabbed at the back of his head, imbedding fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. She squirmed in his lap, and Christopher could feel himself grow hard under her. This development had Marianne without thought, naturally rolling her hips over him, seeking friction from his body. He growled in response, this seemed to alert her that he appreciated such things making Marianne a touch more deliberate in her movements. His hands dropped to her waist, helping to guide her.

She tugged at his shirt and Brandon was quick to remove the damned thing, then they were both bare, he could feel her heat on him. Marianne was apparently privy to the same sensation as she looked up at him her mouth opened slightly in a silent o. Reaching down he ran his fingers over her and found that she seemed to be just as excited as he was. 

Christopher's hand made her moan and shift her hips again. Helping to lead her he looked into her eyes and seeing nothing but trust, he slid inside her, releasing his breath in a whoosh. Marianne released a long drawn out moan. Christopher pulled them closer, so their chests were brushing each other he lavished attention on her neck. Marianne kissed at nipped at his shoulder as he set a tantalisingly slow pace where their bodies were connected. It took everything inside him to keep from spilling himself inside her too soon. She was just so perfect and being with her like this was just so far past anything that he could have hoped would come out of his lonely life.  

His fear for her not to wish for intimacy was obviously not to be of a concern at this moment. There was the time to be worried about that he knew but at this instant, Christopher would relish in this, and it seemed that his new wife for the moment was finding the same pleasure in such things as he did. Noises escaping from her, the way her body reacted was more than enough proof of that. The way she was sat in his lap whilst being very intimate allowed him very little room to move, and soon he was rolling them so that he could hover over her, without breaking their connection to one another. 

Marianne bit her bottom lip, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist, finally opening her eyes and staring into his hazel ones. Reaching for the back of his neck she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth down to meet her own, she could still taste the honey on his tongue it only added to the arousal she felt. Once again, with every thrust, Marianne could feel herself tumbling toward that hurricane of feeling. There had been a small part of her that expected it to never happen again, that perhaps the act really was so mundane as other women made it out to be. Then the wave once again caught her, crashing over her she couldn't help it, his name left her lips in a desperate cry, she felt herself trembling all over. 

As she was coming down from that overwhelming sensation Marianne thought that perhaps it was very unladylike to make such sounds, she made a point to try and be less exuberant. Maybe it bothered Christopher, and he was too polite to say so… there was so much that she didn’t understand. 

Marianne could feel her chest heaving, Christopher had collapsed a bit on her, his head on her chest. She stroked his hair and tried to control her own breath. Marianne had been without thought during the experience… now without the drug like haze, she couldn’t help but blush at her own boldness and actions. She had no doubt seemed wanton… if she were honest that wasn't wrong, and now what? How did they go about life together? Would he tire of having her around? Personally, she would be with him all hours of the day even if it were to only silently read side by side. She needed to make sure that Christopher didn’t find her too needy or desperate, Marianne had made the vow to herself that her days of childish behaviour were behind her, they had departed with all the dreams of Willoughby being her very own Lancelot. No, she must stay with that, give Christopher some time for himself, that was what men wanted, wasn't it?

Clearing her throat, she began to move out from beneath him, clutching the sheets to pull them to her chest. 

“Can… may I call a maid for a bath?” 

Colonel Brandon’s brow furrowed at her visible change in demeanour, unbeknownst to her he had been utterly enraptured with her actions and would like to spend any and all time with her that she would allow. “Of course, Marianne you needn’t ask, through that door,” he pointed to another room that surely lead to another portion of their quarters. “There is a bell, ring for hot water.” He began to get up, “or I could go and ge-.” 

“No.” She stopped him abruptly, “no, don’t trouble with it.” 

Marianne gave him a soft smile that he wasn't sure what to make of, before exiting through the door. Leaving Colonel Brandon to wonder what he had done wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have a few things to talk about... hehe. Communication, communication.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday... mine has been a bit shit so thankfully M & C were able to make me feel a bit less grumpy. XOXO

Laying in the tub Marianne allowed herself to think without restraint. It was a larger one than she had ever been in, even at the old house, when her father was alive. It reminded her yet again of her husband's wealth and the differences between them.

It felt like something was pressing on her chest, Marianne felt anxious… her life was so very different now. Navigating it was something else entirely, how was she supposed to figure it all out? What was there to do? It felt odd going to Christopher and asking him such stupid little questions she should know herself. In no way did Marianne wish to seem like an incapable wife. She dunked her head beneath the water and tried to clear her thoughts, attempted to forget the ache that still lingered from his touch. He had enjoyed himself, Marianne was certain of that but how much? And was he being simply polite? How infuriating there was not some book she could read to know how best to manage such things. 

Everything was so blissfully perfect and here she was ruining it with her worries and insecurities. That was not fair, not to herself and not to him. At the very least she knew that Christopher loved her and was the very best of men. From that end, things were not wrong at all. The rest she would come to understand or perhaps manoeuvre as best she could. 

After the bath had gone a bit cold, Marianne hurriedly washed her hair before getting out, it was certainly chilly outside and that reflected in the house. She nearly froze as she was drying herself off. A small clock told her that it was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon clearly she and Christopher had spent the morning and then some in bed. She dressed in a clean cotton dress, foregoing stays, though her mother would have scolded her for such a thing. Marianne did not want to call a maid and didn’t want to bother Christopher with it either. With the wedding and Christopher’s accident, she had neglected to take some of the teas and medicines the doctor had given her. Not having symptoms bother her much or perhaps she had just been to busy to notice them Marianne wondered if there could be a possibility that her condition would pass. But then as she got ready Marianne had to grab a chair for support when pain radiated in her abdomen. Had she remembered to pack the things she needed? Perhaps Elinor knew. 

Marianne wandered back into the bedroom and found a vase of flowers sat on the small table near the fire, they were utterly beautiful all shades of autumn. Bringing them to her nose she inhaled, lovely of course. Next to the vase was a cup of dark rust coloured tea and a small jar of paste with a spoonful of honey sat next to it to chase it down as well as a note: 

My Love, 

Elinor informed me that these were to be taken every morning, in order to alleviate some of your more uncomfortable symptoms. I hope it was not impertinent of me to ready them for you. Yours C.

P.S. I am in the library should you like to join me. 

…

Christopher was not certain how Marianne would take what he had done. When she left him that morning it had been confusing, he didn’t know exactly what had transpired. Perhaps he had pressed a bit too hard? Had he been too attached? Or perhaps his instincts had been wrong and their intimacy had made her uncomfortable. 

He sighed and dropped his head in his hands as he sat at the pianoforte. He wished to play but nothing would work, he could not focus on the task, thoughts so consumed by Marianne and her odd behaviour. Just as that thought entered his register Christopher looked up to see Marianne in the doorway looking at him, head tilted and biting her lip nervously. 

“Hello,” she murmured with a soft smile. 

Colonel Brandon smiled back at her and his warm expression pulled Marianne across the room and to the pianoforte. She stood next to him and all she wanted was to be in his arms once again. Generally, she was always so candid, why now had she lost all the nerve she was so famous for? Without thought, she plucked at a stray thread on his jacket and he caught her eyes. 

“Are you happy?” Christopher looked at her pleadingly, wanting an honest answer. 

Marianne furrowed her brow in thought, “I am unsure if happy is the word that expresses how I feel.”

His heart pounded in his chest. 

“No, it is more acute than that. I am filled with joy at the very, briefest thought that I am your wife. Every moment I remember I cannot stop the warmth that spreads through my chest, straight to my soul.” She met his eyes and stared at him, Christopher thought into his own soul. 

Courage, if nothing else he had that if they did not talk there would be no clearing up how they felt. “Why… Why then were you so curt with me earlier? If I did something that upset you-if I ever do something that upsets you,” he emphasised. “Please, Marianne never hesitate to tell me so. I want you to know if nothing else that I love you with my whole heart and whatever it is no matter how great or small you can tell me, you can talk to me. I will never judge or turn you away if you wish to talk to me.” Christopher closed his statement by gripping her hand in his tightly and brushing his lips against her own. 

Marianne was momentarily stunned at once again Christopher Brandon’s ability to speak with his heart in the most eloquent way possible. How had she been so stupid to think that she could not just go to him and ask the things she was unsure about? He had been her confidant since the moment she awoke from her fever. Just because they were now husband and wife did not change that fact. 

“I… well I began to think about things… and,” she played with his fingers, it was a gesture of familiarity he loved. Marianne took in a breath and spilt all that she had allowed to fester from this morning, “everything has been incredible,” she looked into his eyes conveying exactly what had been wonderful and he coloured. “But I do not wish to smother you or seem far too clinging… or unladylike in my desires…” The last bit she added looking down, away from his gaze. 

Christopher now understood, all the business older women go on about, everything that had been said about Marianne after the Willoughby incident. No wonder she would be worried he might find her wanton or unrefined. Internally he wished to punish those that ever made her think that way about herself, but his voicing something like that now would do no such good to Marianne. Instead, Christopher would reassure her with all his ability. He took his fingers to her chin and tilted it up until she was looking at him, though her eyes would not meet his own. 

“You would never smother me if I could spend every moment of every day with you I swear I would, though I have the feeling you may then grow sick of me,” he released a self-deprecating chuckle and Marianne responded with a small laugh of her own. “In regard to, I believe what you are getting at…” She blushed and he knew he was right. “You need not be ashamed of your desires, especially not to me as long as they exist it means that I am fulfilling at least some of my part as a husband, a portion that I very much enjoy and cherish myself.” Christopher grinned a bit wolfishly at her then and kissed her very soundly. 

Their lips moved together, tongues now accustomed to the feel of each other's mouths. It stole Marianne’s breath away from her and when she pulled back to retrieve her air a soft moan escaped her lips.

Brandon smiled and kissed her hand, “Shall we play?” He gestured to the pianoforte, “the one at my house in London is not so beautiful, we best enjoy this whilst we can.”

Marianne readily agreed and they spent the rest of the afternoon, playing for each other or together. 

…

In light of it being her first full day at Deleford, Brandon had the servants make themselves fairly scarce, easing Marianne in and allowing them the time together they wished to have just the two of them. Some of the staff had been there since he was a boy and others were hired after he returned from the war and was the master of the house. All were kept on or chosen because Christopher liked them, they were honest and hardworking and did not suffocate him. In return for that, he was obviously a kind and very generous employer. Many lived in the village. Eventually he wished Marianne to get to know them as he had, but for now, they needed time to adjust to their new lives, together. Especially when they were to be uprooted so early in order to follow the John and Mrs Jennings to the city. Part of Christopher wished he had said no to the request, he did not much like London, but Marianne needed to be with her family for Christmas and he had very much started to think of them as his family as well. 

When supper came they sat alone in the dining room, Marianne forwent her place opposite him at the end of the vast table and instead sat just next to him one of the few maids staffed that day had to hide a smile at that. Brandon could tell they would love their new mistress, it was inevitable. 

After their meal was finished Marianne felt the pull of the library once again to pick a book for the evening. 

“What are you in the mood for?” She asked biting her thumbnail as she scanned the shelving. A habit Elinor would've berated Marianne for, were she here.

Christopher pursed his lips, he had been watching her not paying attention to the books she had suggested. “Perhaps something a bit different?” He offered. They often read poetry together but he had a wide array of books, in many genres and structures. Marianne copied his expression unconsciously pursing her lips and moving a bit to the left before her eyes lit up. Plucking a tome out she held it up for him to see. 

“Macbeth?” Colonel Brandon raised an eyebrow at her, that he had not been expecting. 

Marianne nodded with a smile, “shall we read it in bed?” Her smile was mischievous now. 

Brandon tilted his head in thought, “did you not tell me once that this one of Shakespeare's tragedies gave you nightmares?”

“Oh, that was a long while ago,” she waved him off and started toward the door, only to stop, turn and grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him toward her in a surprisingly searing kiss. “And I have to say that you would be a far better choice to defend me against witches than Elinor.”

He chuckled, following her, “so it’s the witches then?” They climbed the stairs to their bedroom and he relished in their soft banter, how he had longed for this ease all his life. “I always found that Banquo’s apparition left me unnerved, rather than the hags.”

“Live women are far more frightening than any bleeding ghost.” Marianne threw behind her another cheeky grin firmly in place.

Christopher laughed, the sound echoing through the hall, “I believe that truthfully I must agree with that.”

…

They had changed quickly and fell into bed yet again. Christopher was not certain that he had ever spent so much time in his bed as he had in the past 24 hours. They began to take turns reading the Scottish Play. True to her word Marianne only became slightly spooked by the story and just scooted closer to him on the bed and ducking beneath his arm. Christopher just smiled as he read, taking a small moment to press a kiss to her hair. When they reached the midpoint of the play Marianne was nodding off against his shoulder. 

“I think that it is time we give pause in favour of sleep.”

Through her sleepiness, Marianne whined a bit as Christopher tried to tuck her under the covers, “I want to hear the end.” 

“Tomorrow, I swear it.” He kissed her cheek and settled next to her on the mattress, blowing out the candle next to the bed, allowing the room to darken except for the light of the flames in the hearth. 

Marianne snuggled closer to him, the side of her face pressed to his chest. There would be no nightmares tonight of that she was completely sure. 

…

Christopher awoke to the feel of his wife's fingers, lightly caressing his chest. The room was still dark save for moonlight, it must still be in the middle of the night, but he groaned softly at her touch. Opening his eyes to see her own ocean blue ones sparkling at him. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shook his head, “wake away,” he smiled. 

Boldening her movement Marianne allowed her hand to trail down his chest, to his waistline, then back up again. Christopher shut his eyes tightly and enjoyed the feel of her hands on him. God, it felt good for once in his life to not to worry when the next happy moment would come, instead, they were around every corner, waiting for him. All because of the wonderful woman that was now in his bed, teasing him, even if she didn’t know that was what she was doing. 

Christopher made a sudden movement, pressing Marianne from her side onto her back and sealing his mouth over her own and driving them both to become lost again in each other and their shared kisses. After a moment Christopher drifted down, placing open mouthed kisses to her neck, shoulders and then tugging at the tie holding her shift with his teeth he drifted lower revealing skin as he went. 

Marianne gasped as he placed his warm mouth over her breast and circled her nipple with his tongue. When he pulled away to do the same to the other, she sucked in a breath when cool air hit the sensitive bud he had just wet. Again she found herself unable to stop from crying out, this time as he nibbled very lightly at one of her hardened peaks. She felt Christopher smile against her skin… he liked the noises she made?

Trailing lower he kissed between her ribs over her shift. Raising the fabric from the hem, until the edge was around her waist he grazed his teeth over her lower belly, relishing in the soft moans that she released. Christopher wanted to lavish any and all attention on his new wife… in any way he could. Running his fingers around her entrance he watched as her head came off the pillow momentarily, then fell back as he circled a finger over her bud of nerves. Taking this moment of her relinquishing control to him, Brandon brought his mouth to her centre, continuing with his tongue what his finger had been doing. 

At the feeling of his mouth on her Marianne’s immediate reaction had been to push him away. But a blush wasn’t even able to form or a word of refusal to slip from her lips, her eyes simple rolled back in her head at the rush of sensation. Possibly the best sensation she had ever experienced. Everything he did was causing her to lose focus on reality and surrender to whatever tumult had begun inside her. Moaning Marianne fisted one hand in the sheets by her head and the other went of its own accord to the back of Christopher's head. Catching in his waves and holding him to her. It registered slightly what she was doing and instantly Marianne began to pull her hand away, she hadn't removed it far when he reached up and caught her hand all the while still causing waves of pleasure to course through her. Christopher placed her hand back on his head… encouraging her to pull him closer, to hold him there against her. It didn’t deserve a second thought Marianne was already tugging a bit on his hair and biting her bottom lip to keep from actually screaming. One of Christopher's hands was at her waist just above her hip the other reached up to her breasting running the pads of his fingers over her nipple. It was just too much she shattered, and this time Marianne could not control the scream. 

“Oh! Christopher!” She shouted and Colonel Brandon groaned into her flesh at Marianne screaming his name amidst her ecstasy. She quivered against him and he pulled back placing a small but lingering kiss on her centre, Marianne whimpered at the sensitive response. 

Climbing back up the bed he returned to Marianne whose chest was heaving, breathing still ragged. 

“I…” Marianne Dashwood was truly out of words, there wasn’t a way to describe what had just occurred. So instead she rolled on top of her husband hands on his cheeks and kissed him thoroughly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter the story will move I swear lol, the fluff has just been calling these last few.


	17. Chapter 17

A week of pure bliss. That was indeed what had occurred for the Brandons. They both had enjoyed their time, filling it with comfortable solitude and each other. Not having to say goodbye to him every night and waking just next to him was Marianne’s new favourite thing. It was this first morning of their second week as a married couple that Christopher couldn’t put it off any longer and had to attend some business in town. It was inevitable though he wished nothing more than to continue this pattern they had begun he needed to see to a few tenants and John needed his help with the dogs at some point. Marianne didn’t wish to see him go either but it was a good excuse to visit Elinor and of course they both knew that their holding up inside was not going to last forever some things needed to be done before going to London. So after kissing her husband goodbye, Marianne started off toward Edward and Elinor's home. 

Elinor came to the door wiping her hands on her apron and squealed when she saw who it was. Immediately pulling Marianne into a tight embrace then pushing her away to look her over. “You look every bit still the blushing bride! I should think that suggests married life is treating you decently then?”

Marianne smiled at her sister's compliment and nodded it was an understatement how well she was doing. As Elinor beckoned her inside and started to make tea for them in the kitchen, Marianne tried to catch up on some current affairs in her sister's life. It felt as though she had barely thought of anyone else but herself and her husband. 

“How is Edward?” Tried Marianne, feeling a bit anxious now that she realised just how isolated from the world she had been for the past week. 

“Oh,” Elinor smiled softly at her, “he is well, he loves the church and its patrons. I think that putting the talents he has always had for that to use is helping his confidence. He is beginning to take pride in it, and he should.”

“Of course.” Marianne smiled a bit lazily. It was hard to believe when they first met Edward that this is where they would be really not too long after, both happy and content. Of course, there had been the in-between that wasn't nearly so pleasant but still. 

Elinor placed cups down and poured them each tea. “So…” she trailed off eyeing Marianne and raising an eyebrow, “how is it being Mrs Brandon?”

Marianne blushed, “Far past pleasing, Elinor.”

“I don’t believe I need even ask if he’s been good to you. I know his disposition.” 

“Indeed,” Marianne giggled. 

The next few hours the two conversed and enjoyed their time together. It wasn’t until her stomach began to grumble that Marianne noticed that it must be past lunch time. Elinor chuckled, “should we make ourselves some lunch?”

Marianne nodded, the thought of making her own food made her very happy it had been odd not having to do much of anything the past week. Quickly joining Elinor in the kitchen they began to prepare food. 

…

Time went on and the hours seemed to escape them. The easy conversation they had always shared as sisters was something that had been harder to come by since Elinor was married and now they seemed to be making up for lost time. Though there was something that Elinor was keeping and Marianne knew it. She kept expecting her older sister to just say it but thus far it hadn't happened, so Marianne let it be, for the moment at least. 

So engrossed in the others company neither noticed the hour until the door swung open and Edward appeared in the parlour. 

“Oh, goodness. Is it really that time of day already?” Asked Elinor shocked at seeing her husband and the darkening sky outside. 

“I, I am afraid it is,” replied Edward, “hello Marianne.”

“Hello, Edward. How are you?” 

“Well, thank you. Yourself?” 

“I am exceedingly well and will be going so that you can spend some time with your wife,” now that it had dawned on her what time it was it had also come into her head that she hadn't said a word to the servants where she had gone. Hugging Elinor and promising to be back very soon Marianne was off trying her best to make it home before the light was completely gone. 

She just reached the steps of the house when the sun had fully set and the garden was bathed in moonlight. She was about to enter when the door was thrown open and out stepped Christopher in a hurry pulling on his jacket a frown at his lips and worry creasing his forehead. He stopped before he nearly ran straight into her. 

“Marianne.” 

“Hello?” She smiled at him hoping that he did not need to go out on some more business or other.  

Colonel Brandon blinked at her as if trying to understand what to say.

“Darling? Do you need to go out?” 

His shoulders, which had been taut relaxed a little, “no, no. I was about to go looking for you actually.” He sounded not angry but slightly irritated. “I was worried.”

“Worried? Why ever would you be worried?” She tried to smile at him again and received no return. 

“You weren’t here and you didn’t tell any of the servants where you were going.”

“Well, I didn’t see anyone on my way out.” Marianne felt a bit of irritation of her own seeping into her voice, it caused her statement to come out a bit sharper than she intended. “I did not know that I must inform anyone before I come and go?”

Christopher seemed to see what that she was getting upset and looked down at his boots momentarily. “You needn’t do that,” he said quietly. 

Marianne didn’t say anything in return, just slid past him and through the door, “its cold let us go inside.” 

The night was cold the November night sky was showing signs of starting to pour rain, perhaps even snow and Colonel Brandon had been terrified that Marianne was out and could be caught in it. He had waited of course for a while before deciding to go and look but after some time of her not returning, he hadn’t been able to stop himself and now he seemed an overprotective fool. 

Christopher followed Marianne back into the house and to the library where she was headed. The other rooms in the house she seemed to tiptoe around, not quite feeling at home just yet he assumed but the library she felt comfortable. Marianne sat at the pianoforte when he entered but was playing, just staring at the keys.  

“I am sorry.”

She looked up. 

“It was stupid of me to assume you needed me to come look for you. You are not a prisoner or anything like that here you can come and go as you like. Of course.”

“I know that Christopher. I shouldn't have eluded that was how I felt," she paused, "I can assure you, I do not feel that way. And I did not mean to snap at you in the doorway.” Marianne dropped her gaze to her hands and sighed, she didn’t know why she had done that. Elinor wouldn't have done something like that...

Christopher approached her and stood next to the pianoforte, “you can question anything I do or say at all times, no matter if it upsets me or not. I value what you think.”

Snorting softly she replied, “your judgement dear husband in far better than mine even on a bad day.”

“Don’t talk of yourself like that.” It was said kindly but in firmness.

Marianne only shrugged and changed the subject. “I was at Elinor’s.”

Brandon leaned against the instrument casually, hoping to remove some of the tension that hung in the air. “Ah, I see. How is she getting along?”

“Very well, they seem to quite enjoy the parish and their home. It is lovely by the way. Elinor has made it her own of course but I can see traces of you in the changes that have been made.”

Colonel Brandon hummed and moved to now peruse the bookshelves. 

“How was your day?”

Christopher turned to look at her, “it was sufficient… There was much to do but all good things I suppose. I did… hear a bit of news from town.”

“Oh?”

“Mr Martin has moved himself now fully into Allenam.” 

Marianne stiffened a bit but did her best to brush it off. “I see.” 

“Yes, he wished to get everything in order… before he attends to Christmas… in London.”

“Sir John invited him then?” 

“Yes." Christopher fiddled a bit with the design on the back a chair, "I assumed you would like to know."

Marianne only nodded. It was very possible that with Mr Martin going with their party she would see Willoughby and that possibility... she did not entirely know what to feel about it. 

…

That evening continued to be a quiet affair instead of reading together as they had thus far, they both instead had their own books and silently read together in bed. Christopher eyed Marianne over his book, she was plucking absently at the quilt over her legs. He reached out and took her hand looking back at his book and kissing her fingers. Marianne smiled snuggling a bit closer to her husband under the covers resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Are you still angry with me?”

“No,” he didn’t even hesitate, “and I was not angry only concerned.”

Marianne nodded. “I think that Elinor may be pregnant.” She mused. 

Colonel Brandon put down his book but still tried to look somewhat nonchalant, he knew that this could very well be a sore subject for Marianne. “Did she tell you so?”

“Oh, no, but I kept thinking she meant to say something to me and then she wouldn’t. I know how Elinor is when she is keeping something and that's the only thing I can think of, that my sister wouldn’t wish to tell me.”

Christopher studied his wife, once again picking at the quilt. “And how do you feel about that?”

Marianne bit her lip, “I think I feel glad about it. What am I to do? It is life and despite my shortcomings, I have a happy life of my own.”

Christopher snorted, “I see no shortcomings.”

Marianne smiled sadly, “I hope that you still see it that way ten years from now when there is no child to think of passing the estate to.”

Furrowing his brow Christopher placed his book on the side table turning to her with a look of severity. “Do you honestly believe that? About me?” 

“All men want children Christopher.” 

“I disagree, and even if that were true, it does nothing to dissuade me from knowing that having you will keep me just as happy if not more so than children ever could.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. “Please, I beg you believe me when I say that I am perfectly content with you and I being our very own family.”

This brought tears to Marianne’s eyes, but she swallowed them back nodding and accepting the kiss that he planted on her forehead. 

“Do not think that means that I do not feel for your situation my love, I cannot say for certain as I am not in your position but it must be very… trying.” He gave her a sad smile, it wasn't pitying only love and understanding. 

Marianne thought then decided to voice something that had been on her mind since the day the doctor spoke to her about her condition. “I’ve never really liked children all that much,” she stated after a moment. 

This made Christopher chuckle, “is that so? Didn’t you get on well with little Thomas?”

“Oh yes, they are fine to hold for a bit… but,” Marianne nibbled her lip as if ready to tell him a secret. “I really enjoy giving them back to their mother... and being pregnant seems like it must be absolutely detestable.” 

This made him laugh out loud. “Indeed?”

“Well I mean you plump up more than a bit, don't you? And then there are all the parts about being ill and having aches and pains. Not to mention all the potential danger that could occur… so much room for heartbreak.”

This made Christopher tighten his arms around her subtly. She was right about all of it. 

“It just seems that perhaps this could all be a blessing in disguise most women don’t have any option but the other.” 

“Well, I had no idea you felt so strongly on the subject.”

“Hmm, yes.” Marianne yawned and scooted further down in the bed so she could rest her head on his chest, tracing lazy circles over his stomach. “I suppose life has a mind of its own…” She added sleepily. 

After Marianne was snoring softly, Colonel Brandon was still awake thinking on what Marianne had said. He had seen her with Willoughby, then she had acted as if she all she wanted was to play the part of the wife. Marianne seemed to be fully invested in the idea that they would marry and have babies of course that was never explicitly stated by either of them obviously but it was easily seen in the way she looked at him. This was a new development what she had just told him, of course, Christopher was perfectly alright with her statements all he needed was her. But now Christopher had to wonder whether it was the fact that they would be his children that she no longer had any interest. He tucked those thoughts away, it wasn’t necessary to think on them now. 

…

As the weeks went by the Brandons settled into a comfortable routine. Christopher had much to attend to in anticipation of their trip and was out during most of the day. Marianne was starting to find her place in the house and began to tend to small things, she also would go and see Elinor help her with things here or there. Sometimes she would take the carriage to see her mother and Margaret. In the evenings when Colonel Brandon returned home they would sit down to dinner, converse over their respective days and how everything had gone. It was nice and comfortable, Marianne enjoyed the ability to pick someone’s brain when she read an interesting passage in a novel or to show a new piece of music too. Christopher loved not coming home to an empty house, instead, there was always a warm embrace and a kiss waiting for him at the door. The both of them were very much getting used to these events so when the time came to pack their things and start to London along with the Ferrars's, and inhabitants of the Barton Park and cottage it set both of them in a bit of a state. 

Marianne had awoken to something that set her in a foul mood everything and anything made her bristle and snap. She had thus far been able to avoid Christopher as he was readying horses and the carriage for their journey but when lunch time came around and Marianne was not there to eat he became worried and went in search of her. He found her in their dressing room, which looked as if a small storm had hit it. There were clothes everywhere as well as bonnets, aprons, shoes. In the weeks after the wedding, he had insisted she go to the local dressmaker and have some new gowns made, whatever she fancied and Marianne had been delighted at the prospect. Now she was sat on the floor looking as if she had been crying and holding two different bits of ribbon in hand. 

Colonel Brandon approached her like he might a wounded animal, with caution. 

Marianne looked up when he approached. “You need my trunk don’t you?” 

He couldn't tell if she sounded sad or irritated, perhaps volatile was the best descriptor. “It’s alright, we don’t need to load it now. I actually came to see if you were wanting some lunch.”

Marianne scrunched her nose up. 

“Okay, I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled nervously but stopped immediately when she shot him a menacing look. “Right then, tea?”

Marianne shook her head and turned back to the clothes, “I cannot decide what to take, it was far easier when I had fewer clothes.”

Christopher winced a bit at that, he thought that getting new dresses was something she wanted. 

Blinking at him she seemed to notice her behaviour and the ridiculousness of what she was angry over. This had her placing her face in her hands and promptly bursting into tears. Christopher’s eyes became wide and he knelt quickly on the floor near her, pulling her against his chest and rubbing her back. 

When his soothing motion seeming to calm her if only slightly, he tried again to find out what was wrong. “Tell me what I can do to make this easier, hmm?"

Marianne looked up at him and began to cry harder, sobbing out, “you… are so pleasant… all the time-an-and I am being… so loathsome…” 

“I am not nice all the time.”

She nodded her head, “yes.” 

Christopher knew better than to argue with her and instead tilted her chin up and kissed her lips, murmuring against them, “what is it?”

Grudgingly reaching under a pile of clothes Marianne produced a letter. Practically shoving it at him, like she didn't wish to touch it. Then folded her arms over her chest and tried not to pout as he read it. 

It was a letter addressed to Mrs Dashwood from Fanny. It invited Mrs Dashwood and Margaret as well as Edward and Elinor and he and Marianne to a New Years Eve party at the John Dashwood's home in London. Colonel Brandon was still very confused about why exactly this letter had brought on such a reaction, it had obviously been passed on to Marianne after her mother and sister had read it. Then he reached the final paragraph, that in faux nicety made quite a few snide remarks about the last party Marianne attended in London and that Fanny assumed it would not be the same at her own party for the New Year. 

Christopher clenched his jaw, dropping the letter to the floor. That woman was the likes of which he had never before encountered. How was she so snide and poisonous that she could write such things? All pretending it was in good humour or whatever stupidity she decided to hide behind. His wife was brilliant, kind and spirited, she was not any of what Fanny had made her out to be, money hungry, foolish and the like. Marianne sniffed just next to him, Christopher turned and reached out, embedding a hand in her curls and pulling her close for a near bruising kiss. Then spoke against her lips between kisses as he pressed her onto her back, the clothing strewn about lessening the hardness of the floor. 

“Do… not allow … that wicked woman's words… to affect you… she is wrong.” He pulled back for a moment now situated above her and looking down, “she will not ruin our holiday." 

Marianne was smiling now if only a little and soon gasped when Christopher slid down her body with a smile and under her skirts. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be up yesterday but life got in the way as it does. Enjoy! XOXO

Carriage journeys were always uncomfortable, but Marianne was finding it far more so. Even when riding entirely with Charlotte Palmer at least then there had been the reprieve of Mr Palmer and that dark wit of his. She had been thinking that a ride with her husband would not be so bad but Mrs Jennings and Sir John had decided they would join them and the luggage could go in their carriage while Margaret and Mrs Dashwood could ride with Edward and Elinor. Margaret had been far too happy to realise that she would not be subjected to riding with Mrs Jennings and silently taunted Marianne with her eyes before climbing in behind Elinor. Now Marianne sat just next to Mrs Jennings with Christopher on the other side, he was looking out the window fingers rubbing his jaw and Mrs Jennings and Sir John chatted happily back and forth. 

There was also the added discomfort Marianne was feeling. Ever since the fever, even before she discussed with the doctor her monthly bleeding had been irregular. It would not come or it would be excessive, lasting and painful. That was what she experienced at the moment. Her lower abdomen cramped and the cold, bumpy carriage was no help at all. Her head ached and it was difficult to keep from whimpering in pain. She did not want to worry Christopher and certainly didn’t wish Sir John or Mrs Jennings to know what ailed her. So she shut out their noises and tried to focus on the passing greenery out the window. With any luck, her cycle would pass quickly and she would at least feel somewhat herself soon.  That evening they stopped at an inn to stay for the night. Marianne was so grateful to be away from the chatter that when she entered their room and Christopher opened his mouth to say he would go get them some supper Marianne held up a hand to stop him whispering, “just a moment… listen.” 

There were the odd noises here and there from about the building but that was minimal. Christopher grinned at her and slowly and very quietly shut the door behind him. When he returned Marianne was already dressed for bed and had a damp cloth from the wash basin across the room over her eyes and forehead. 

“Marianne?”

“Hmm?” 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes… um, I will be soon enough.” 

Christopher placed the tray he had brought down now realising that perhaps she may not be up to eating and sat on the end of the bed, near her. “What exactly is that to mean?” It was said good-naturedly and he took her hand in his, he knew the journey had been unpleasant but she seemed ill. 

Marianne was silent for a moment, “my bleeding. It came a bit early, I thought we would be in London by the time it happened.” Her cheeks turned pink and the intimate knowledge she had just bestowed on him. It was completely natural she reminded herself, he was bound to know that it happened. 

Christopher rubbed his thumb over her hand barely batting an eye at the comment. “Are you in a great deal of pain?”

Marianne nodded, her lip wobbling a bit at his sweet demeanour. 

“Oh, darling” he murmured sweetly moving so that he could recline next to her in bed and pull her into his arms. Marianne rested her head against his shoulder and finally after a day of holding it all in, allowed the tears to fall and fall they did. She just sat there and cried. Sobbed because of her pain, because she was uncomfortable, because of Mrs Jennings and about whatever else seemed wrong at the moment. Christopher simply sat there and murmured words of encouragement and ran a hand lightly over her hair. 

When she had quieted he turned her chin to look at him, “would tea be helpful at all? Your mother?”

“Yes, tea, no to Mamma. I only want to be with you at the moment ."

This set a small burning in Colonel Brandon’s chest when she said things like that it made his heart swell. All he wanted in the world was to be next to her and to hear Marianne say that is what she wanted in her state of discomfort, made him feel as if he could provide her something. 

“I will be back with the tea.”

When Colonel Brandon returned he found Marianne asleep with a book tucked in her grasp. Carefully prying it from her fingers and tucking her more securely in the blankets he also prepared for sleep. Climbing into bed and pulling her close he tucked his head over her chin and kissed her hair before drifting off with her sweet scent encompassing him. 

…

Through the time she had been in town last Marianne had never seen Christopher’s house in London. Only assuming that it must be like Mrs Jennings, it wasn’t. It was clean and somewhat plain, no too much of anything, except books. There were massive amounts of those, much to her excitement. The whole house suited her very well and gave her hope that this time spent would make up for the last time she had been in London. Thankfully they had been able to part with the others at Mrs Jennings with the excuse of unpacking to leave quickly. Marianne loved her mother and sisters and in their own way Mrs Jennings and Sir John had their moments but she desperately wanted to be with her husband. Just her husband. 

There were a few servants but not as many as she had expected and that made her feel more at home. As they reached their bedroom Christopher and the butler, Caleb towing their trunks Marianne took in yet another portion of the house. A much smaller bedroom and bed as well. That she was perfectly alright with, she would very much like to snuggle up to Christopher whether they were in a large or small bed. Quickly the butler removed himself leaving them alone. The rest of their journey had gone smoother and Marianne felt herself again but with everyone near it had been somewhat difficult to have a moment alone that did not include sleeping. Apparently, it was not just her that had thought this. The moment the door closed Christopher reached out and pulled her against him by the waist, embedding his fingers in her hair and kissing her soundly for a long extraordinary moment. 

“Is the house to your liking?” He murmured pulling back only slightly from her lips and staring into her eyes. 

Marianne nodded, “yes, very much.” 

He nipped at her bottom lip and Marianne whimpered softly, closing her eyes. “Tomorrow I think we shall need to make it festive, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes…” His hands had drifted from her waist to caress her bottom. She very much wanted to get into the festive spirit but at the moment there were other more pressing things on her mind. His hands tugged at her skirts beginning to pull them up and finally over her head so she was in her underthings. It made her giddy to think that she no longer felt shy about her body in front of him, he worshipped every part of her. Ever so carefully her walked her against the nearest wall, all the while kissing her lips. 

“Perhaps…” she broke away and Christopher descended his kisses onto her neck and shoulder, pulling at her shift to access more skin. “We should have a bath?” Marianne hoped he heard her meaning. 

That he did and quickly there was steaming water in the bath and she was sat between his legs, her back against his chest as he leaned his head on the rim of the tub. It was very relaxing and so thoroughly intimate that it made his heart sing. Christopher dipped his hands in the water finding her breasts and massaging them, just listening to her breathing become more rapid. Gently running his thumbs over her sensitive, hard peaks before lowering one hand fully into the water and finding her core. She shivered against him and he began to stimulate her. One hand pulling her hair over one shoulder so he could access her neck and earlobe. 

A few candles lit the room giving it a romantic, golden glow and the flickering light danced behind Marianne’s eyes as she sighed and moaned out her pleasure at his ministrations. Soon she knew what was to come and with all her might, sat forward to pull away, Christopher tried to tug her back but she refused. Turning carefully in the tub to keep from sloshing water over the edge. 

“I need you…” 

This brought a soft smile to his lips, he reached out holding her hips, aiding her into his lap and easing himself inside her. Marianne let her head fall back, moaning softly, this was new and already knew she wished to do it again. The bath was somewhat tight and there was not much room for movement, but Christopher held her hips and encouraged her to move atop him, soon Marianne needed no such aid. It was slow but intense. He reached down and rubbed her bud, as she gripped his shoulders and continued grounding down on him. Marianne came panting and Christopher was not able to keep himself from coming with her so tight she was pressed against him and writhing on top of his lap. 

Marianne dropped her forehead to his shoulder and he turned to kiss her temple. Giving her a gentle squeeze, this was heaven Colonel Brandon was sure. 

…

Marianne woke the next morning feeling particularly good. There would be no riding for hours in a carriage and since they were in town Christopher would not have too much business to attend to, if any that day. That being said, when her hand came up empty in its search for his warm body next to her own Marianne sat up, running a hand through her curls and looking about. Christopher’s side of the bed the covers were thrown up and the space empty. Getting up Marianne pulled her nightdress over her head as it had been forgone the night before as they had proceeded with activities after the bath, she smiled at the memory. Then found her dressing gown as well. It was most likely not proper to be running about the house dressed as such with servants around but she had little care, truly. 

Following her nose,  she reached the dining hall to see a lovely breakfast laid out for two. She licked her lips and felt her stomach rumble, unfortunately, Christopher was not there. Marianne placed hands on her hips, then heard perhaps some terrifying crashing from a few rooms over and the sound of men struggling with something. Running to the sitting room Marianne stopped short in the doorway… There were two massive fir trees bound and sat against a wall. The struggling was coming from Christopher and Caleb, sleeves rolled up trying to straighten the third and largest tree in front of the parlours large window. It looked dangerous at best and Marianne gasped, half at the lovely trees and the half in worry they were about to crush her husband. Christopher turned his head at the sound and though a bit strained gave her a bright, dazzling smile, looking back to his task and thankfully with another push they were able to keep the tree straight and stable. 

“Thank you, Caleb.” Christopher said, a bit out of breath, “the others can go up after breakfast.” 

“Very well, sir,” Caleb nodded and exited the room. 

Christopher rolled his shoulder a bit, stepping to Marianne. 

“You didn’t hurt yourself did you?” She fussed.

“No, no.” He waved a hand, kissing her lips. “Do you like it?” They stood back and took in the massive green tree, it smelled exquisite. 

Marianne laughed, “It's absolutely beautiful!” 

Christopher beamed. Leading her from the room and into the dining room. Where Marianne sank into a comfortable dining chair, tucking one foot up, completely improper but who would see but he. Christopher chuckled at it, he was able to see a side of her that no one else was. 

“You are spoiling me,” Marianne sent him a sideways look as she poured herself some tea and brought the cup to her lips. 

“Yes, I am.”

She grinned back at him and they both ate in silence for a while, just enjoying the company of the other. 

“John sent a note…” 

“What was it about?”

Christopher smiled a bit sadly, “they want to have dinner this evening.”

Marianne giggled, “don’t look so morose love, we have time to ourselves enough I suppose, and I know that Margaret has been in sore need of some of your travel stories. She adores you.”

This made Colonel Brandon smile once again, somewhat proud that he had been able to gain the approval of her family and perhaps their love as well. “I suppose I am being somewhat selfish, wishing to keep you here all to myself.” 

“What time?” Marianne took a bite of some lovely freshly baked bread, spread with preserves and nearly moaned at how wonderful it tasted to her. 

“We are to be there at 7 this evening. They are lighting the tree and no doubt with John there will be enough mince pies and mulled wine to feed an army.” 

“Perhaps we can play some Christmas tunes for them!” Surprisingly Marianne was not so upset, her sisters would be there and it felt like a proper holiday now that her anxiety of London had been abated by the wonderful new impression she had of it. 

Christopher nodded. “I do have a confession to make…”

Marianne raised an eyebrow. 

“I… not since I was a boy had such festivity in the house… I am afraid we will need to go out today and find ourselves some ornaments and such things.” 

Marianne got up and walked to him, sliding into his lap and wrapping arms around his neck. How sad it was that such a kind man had lived a lonely existence for so much of his life. “Let us go an pick some out then,” and she kissed his cheek, then his lips. 

…

The city was festive in itself, trees and candles sparkling and lit in shop windows, the air was biting but not entirely unwelcome. Marianne held her hand in the crook of Colonel Brandon’s arm as they walked about from shop to shop, their breath puffing out in front of them and making them laugh. Between the two of them they had found exactly what they need, lovely simplistic decor that would look splendid on the trees Christopher had procured. Marianne didn’t want much materially but Christopher insisted she pick out what she liked, still it felt so strange to be spending money on things that they would just put up after the month was out. Then they walked past another one of the icy windows, inside Marianne glimpsed a pair of crimson candles, they were solid and had beautiful gold paint accenting them. Catching what she was looking at Christopher pulled her toward the door so they could go in but was stopped when a man recognised him. 

“Brandon?” The man exclaimed. 

“Barton, my god. How are you?”

The two men shook hands seemingly very happy to see each other and Marianne stood a bit behind Christopher trying to peg who he could be. 

Christopher took her hand and pulled her a bit closer, properly of course. “Marianne this is Captain James Barton, we were together in the Indies. Barton this is Mrs Marianne Brandon… my wife.” 

Marianne smiled shyly and allowed the man to kiss her hand. He seemed a sweet, sensitive sort of person, none of the blustering excitement like Sir John. Just giving her a friendly smile and nodding when she said how happy she was to meet him. The two men began to talk and Marianne gave Christopher’s arm a squeeze before politely slipping away and into the shop to see the candles that had caught her eye, they would be a lovely gift for her mother. 

The candles smelled sweet and spicy, like cinnamon, yes they were perfect. She turned to ask the shop owner for help getting them from the display and when she moved Marianne bumped into someone, so forcefully she was nearly knocked to the floor. The man helped right her and stepped back. 

Both began to mumble an apology when their eyes met and Marianne felt her heart stop. It was Willoughby.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My week has been absolute and complete rubbish so, unfortunately, a shorter chapter than usual, but I will do my best to have another up very quickly. <3

Willoughby seemed just as surprised as she was to see her there, but his face turned into a smile, where Marianne’s descended into fear and nerves. What was she supposed to do? She felt her chest compress like she could not breathe properly and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing seemed to come out. 

“Hello, Miss Marianne.” His dark hair framed his face at that devilish smile was playing at his lips. 

His words sent a jolt through Marianne. “Mrs Brandon.” She corrected emphatically, moving past him to the door, she would get the candles for Mamma at a later time. 

“What?” It was a startled choke that escaped his mouth then, and he grabbed her forearm harshly stopping her. 

Marianne felt sick at the mere thought of him touching her, “unhand me.” She said offended. 

He did but stepped in front of her path to the door. The shop was abuzz with people and it was not noticeable to anyone that this was out of place, there were too many crowded in the space. “You married him?”

Marianne glared, “let me pass.”

“Really,” he seemed to laugh with manic energy. “That old fool of a man.”

If he had not upset her at first, this statement made it so. "Do not. Speak of my husband in such a way, sir."

Marianne was beginning to feel dizzy, his body came closer to hers, towering over her and she wanted to scream, perhaps she should’ve. Willoughby seemed to be trying at a smile but what came across was more of a bearing of teeth, gritted and terrifying. Marianne was about to yell when Willoughby seemed to notice something out of the corner of his eye. Pinning her with another dark stare he said, “this is not over.” Then disappeared into the crowd. 

Marianne felt herself falling toward the floor, but was caught by strong arms. Arms she knew, she turned without thought and buried her face in Christopher’s coat. Tears beginning to leak out of her eyes. Why was she so weak? Why hadn’t she just yelled for help? It was that fear of causing a scene of Willoughby twisting his actions and making them look like it was her. She had taken the cowards way out and she hated herself for it. 

Colonel Brandon was livid. He had wanted with everything to chase that wretch down as soon as he realised who it was. At first, Christopher had not been certain but when Marianne reacted the way she did, he knew. It would have been all too satisfying to find that bastard of a man and wring his neck… but Marianne needed him, god knows the slippery vermin would have hidden anyway. 

“Let’s go to the house,” he murmured in Marianne's ear, steering her gently from the store and toward their home.

…

Marianne didn’t say a word or make a sound, even when they entered the house and he sat her on the sofa. Not when he made up the fire and brought her tea, she just sat there staring at the wall, distant. This worried him, what had the man said? Or was it what she felt seeing him again that had set her into such a state? Did she have regret? No. It had been fear Colonel Brandon sensed when he noticed them through the window to the shop, that he was certain Marianne looked as if she was terrified. The thought of it was almost too much for him to remember.

It had been by chance Christopher had even seen them to begin with. It made him wonder just how Willoughby and Marianne's time had been spent together when they were alone in Devonshire. A pain radiated so sharply in his chest it almost took his breath away… he had never asked Marianne, just how far Mr Willoughby had pushed if he had...

He stood over the hearth and had to press his hand to the mantle in an effort to stabilise himself. This was far from what he wanted to bring up to her but by god, even the thought was making him sick. Running a hand through his hair Christopher made a soft growling noise in the back of his throat. He only turned from his tumult of thoughts when he heard a whimper from the sofa. 

When he looked to her Marianne had tears running down her face and her eyes looked at him almost pleadingly. He was next to her, kneeling in front of her in an instant. She had her face turned from him now, arms wrapped around herself and obviously trying very hard to control her emotions, wiping tears from her cheeks angrily. 

“You are cross with me-”

Christopher furrowed a brow and stopped that before it could start. “I am not cross with you in the slightest,” he reached out and took her hand in his rubbing small circles with his thumb over the back of it, trying to prove to her that he was not angry… with her. 

“You need not lie to me, I would be outraged myself.”

“What is it that I should be angry regarding?” He pressed. 

Marianne sighed and finally looked at him, “I did not call for your help… I should have moved sooner… I felt grounded… to my spot... oh Christopher!" She cried, hands flying to her mouth as if she had just realised something dreadful, "I love you, I have not thought of him... you must believe, I did not stay there in that shop because I wanted to speak to him..." Marianne trailed off still looking horrified. 

“What were you supposed to do? He nearly had you cornered?” Christopher's voice was so soft, so very tender. 

She wiped another tear away, “I should have screamed, or made a scene.” Self-hatred flashed behind her eyes and Christopher shook his head, moving into the cushions with her and pulling her onto the safety of his lap. 

“Shhh,” Marianne began to cry again into his shirt and he pressed soft kisses into her hair humming near her ear. When she quieted he tried to keep his voice neutral as he asked, “is it- was it common for him to try and control you such as that?” He had seen the look of possession that his body language had inferred. 

She thought for a moment and nodded, “yes… I think… though at the time I was so caught up in it all that I am not certain.” 

Colonel Brandon nodded, he had seen it a few times when he was over men in the army. "Did he say anything… I should say, is there anything he spoke of today that you feel the need to share? I will not push you.”

Marianne shook her head, “it is alright. He did not know we were married… or pretended not to know… I am uncertain. Then at the end, he said that it was not over.” 

“What was not over?”

“I do not know.” Marianne’s lip quivered again and Colonel Brandon took his index finger and thumb to hold her chin, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips very softly, lovingly. 

“I don’t believe that I want to go to this evening, can we stay home? I think I may wish to go to bed.”

Christopher agreed readily, he wouldn't hear of Marianne telling him to go on his own. He had a maid draw up a warm bath for Marianne, as he sent word to Sir John that they would not be in attendance that evening. 

After the bath Marianne climbed into bed, curled into a ball and waited for Christopher to come to bed. She was trying her very hardest not to think. Barring everything that could make her upset, all that she had wished to shove to the back of her mind had come back full force at seeing Willoughby.  Christopher did appear after not too long and once in the sheets with her she curled into his side, breathing in his scent it was comforting and fully him, there was something there that made her heart slow from its racing and calmed her nerves. They lay in silence for a long while until finally, Marianne broke it. 

“There was something else you wished to ask me, I saw it in your eyes, what is it?” She could not stand to think that he was hiding something even in an effort to give her privacy. She wanted no secrets between them.

Christopher blew out a long breath, and hugged her into his side tighter, debating with himself.  The firelight licked at the lumber of the bed, casting on the wood and making it shine amber, in the low light. 

“Did he ever… what I mean is, was there a time that he-” Christopher became frustrated that he could not speak the words and ran a hand roughly through his hair. 

“No. I believe understand your meaning… almost perhaps some moments he pressed more than others for something of that nature, but no. You needn’t worry.” Her voice sounded so very sad. 

There was more quiet. He felt the tension in her body against his, a rigid feeling, like he might shove her away from him in the next breath. 

Leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple he murmured, “you must know that it would not have made a difference, don’t you?” 

Marianne shook her head, afraid that she may cry if she spoke. 

“Not even for a moment would I have been concerned.”

This made Marianne’s lips turn up just a little and soon her breathing slowed, at least perhaps she had calmed enough to sleep. Colonel Brandon was not so lucky as to find rest, he pondered the events of the day, thought about that cad. What Christopher wanted to do was search him out and… but that was not wise. There must be another way to expose the man for what he was, but right now Christopher was going to take care of his own beautiful wife, give her a wonderful holiday. If Mr Willoughby decided to show his face again at any point soon, or at all Brandon would not hesitate to show him exactly what he was willing to do in the honour of Marianne. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas if you celebrated! Mine was much more stressful than I intended it to be and thus we have a fluff-filled chapter to help me feel better lol. xoxo

Warmth spread in her lower belly and once again Marianne woke to possibly one of the best feelings in the world. That had become a constant since marrying Christopher Brandon. He always made certain that not only was she always well taken care of, but she was awoken in bliss in some form or another. Sometimes it was breakfast and others like today he was beneath the covers placing careful and gentle kisses on her inner thighs and lower belly. As she blinked her eyes open Marianne understood that it was not in fact warmth in her belly but fire and though his ministrations were welcome Marianne wanted his lips. She wanted to see his eyes, have his body pressed against her own. It had been a long while since Marianne allowed herself to feel the least bit worried about thoughts such as that. Christopher made certain that she knew he wanted her to want him, he craved it and she craved him. She was no longer allowing herself to be self to be self-conscious of her wants. 

Reaching a hand down Marianne ran fingers through his hair and tugged on his shoulder so he would emerge from the covers and kiss her lips. Christopher complied, of course, escaping hair very ruffled and bare-chested as they had fallen asleep without their clothes the night before, due to other activities… He grinned at her unabashedly after he had kissed her thoroughly and Marianne smiled back, leaning up to press small pecks to his chest. Then delving her hand down to stroke him. Christopher groaned and his hips moving involuntarily at her actions. Marianne bit her lip pulling at his hips, directing him to settle between her legs. That he did sinking inside her with a soft grunt escaping his lips. 

Marianne closed her own eyes and savoured the moment, the fullness that she always felt was so intoxicating she was never certain how or why any of the women she knew didn’t take pleasure in this act. Though she had a feeling that Christopher was a particularly good lover as well as husband and that very well might have something to do with it. He moved gently inside her rocking their bodies together slowly and pressing his forehead to hers. Marianne moaned hugging him to her and pressing her fingertips into his lower back silently begging him to move faster. He did. The ache inside her intensified and for the first time Marianne moved her own hand down to her apex and rubbed that place that felt so incredible. She looked up into his eyes almost shocked that she had done something such as that, but Christopher only smiled down at her and nodded her continue. 

They both reached pleasure quickly then and when Christopher pulled out of her rolling to the side he pressed a kiss into her hair and whispered in her ear.

“Happy Christmas, my loveliest wonderful wife.”

Marianne laughed softly and nodded barely able to breathe normally again, “Happy Christmas, my love, my husband.”

She kissed his jaw and strained up to peck his lips. Marianne suddenly got very excited and lurched from the bed toward their dressing room, tugging a throw blanket around her as she went and leaving Christopher without the warmth of his wife and a bit confused. She returned rather quickly with a box in hand. She handed it to him proudly and sat back on the bed, still wrapped in the bedding and waited for him to open it. It had been a labour of love for her. Every spare moment she had, Marianne had spent on them. 

Colonel Brandon eyed her then uncapped the box. Tears sprang to his eyes even without a second, he had always been easy to emotion. Inside were hand embroidered handkerchiefs. Beautiful creams with sage green monogrammed details. CB on them. 

“You did this?” 

Marianne nodded, getting a bit emotional herself at the look in his eyes. 

“Oh, love. That is so remarkably thoughtful, I am uncertain if I ever have received a more considered gift.”

That was honestly probably true. Colonel Brandon rarely bought anything for himself and when he did it was of necessity not want. Ever since his mother passed he just didn’t see a reason to get himself nice things or to have others bestow gifts on him. His mother had always emphasised the need for him to remember that to help others he first needed to make certain that he, himself was well cared for. Without her there to stress it to him, he just didn’t think of it as often. Marianne was always taking the time to make sure that Christopher felt wanted and that he knew she cared. How wonderful she was. His mother would have loved Marianne very dearly, he knew. Christopher wished the two of them could have met. 

“I am happy that you like them,” Marianne spoke through the haze of thought that Christopher was experiencing. 

He smiled through the moisture that entered his vision, “I love them, there will be one with me at all times.” Reaching out he took Marianne in his arms and hugged her to him. “And now for your gifts.”

Marianne rolled her eyes pulling away, “Christopher, you spoil me! I need and want for nothing on an average day, the only thing that I wish for is to spend this day in your presence and have your love.” 

Brandon grinned, “You have all that of course, but I so enjoy giving you things my love.” Getting up he also went to the dressing room and returned with three smaller boxes and bid her to open them as he sat on the bed next to her. Marianne hiked her blanket up higher on her chest and took the packages. 

The first and biggest was a necklace with a gold chain and a small cluster of pale pink flowers. She brought a hand to her lips in shock at such a lovely and subtle piece of jewellery. The next was a pair of earrings with the same flower details, simple and beautiful. Then a bracelet once again matching the set, delicate, fitting her small wrist perfectly.

“They are so beautiful Christopher, I cannot explain to just how much I wish to wear them at all times.” Marianne threw herself to hug him and he chuckled kissing her wild curls, Christopher’s chest swelled with pride at the response he was receiving. 

“Now I believe it is breakfast time?”

Marianne smiled mischievously and shook her head, "not just yet." Then she claimed his lips with every intention of thanking him properly for her Christmas gifts.

…

Mrs Jenning’s house was … elaborately decorated. Marianne had to pinch her lips together to keep from smiling when she saw her poor little sister's face as they were escorted into the sitting room. Clearly, it had been a bit of a wild day for the Dashwood and Ferrars families, nothing like the relaxing moments the Marianne had experienced with her own husband before they left to join them. There was a tension in room no doubt about that, Sir John and Mrs Jennings were laughing heartily with glasses in their hands, perhaps they had a bit too much already and the night was young. 

Colonel Brandon leaned down to whisper in Marianne’s ear, “perhaps we should have faked an illness.” 

She grinned at him in a secret moment of understanding. As Margaret nearly assaulted them with her person as she was obviously very ready to be in the presence of people that were not quite so overbearing. Christopher was pulled into a conversation about the structure of the buildings in London almost as soon as Margaret had reached them. Sometimes Marianne wondered if Margaret was more fond of Christopher than of her own sister. It was endearing. 

“Ahh, the Brandon’s have arrived and now we can eat.” Sir John hopped up, swaying a bit and bid everyone follow him to the dining room. Marianne took Elinor's arm as they walked. 

“How has it been?”

“Oh… they mean well you know…” 

“That does not mean that they are not incredibly irritating,” Marianne added, always the one to be a little less forgiving of the two people’s behaviour. 

“I am just happy you are here now, are you still feeling unwell?” 

“Not at all, I will talk to you about that later,” Marianne whispered as they took their places at the table to eat. That kept Mrs Jennings and Sir John occupied for at least a while they couldn’t very well speak the entire time they chewed, even if they tried to. The happiness from her morning and the reassurance that though Willoughby was a scoundrel and unfortunately in the city, Marianne still had her Christopher, Marianne let their comments roll off. Every once in a while she would squeeze his knee under the table and they would once again share that secret look of happiness. After a delicious dinner was finished and everyone was very full and even perhaps a bit tipsy, Sir John requested that everyone go to the parlour to play some Christmas music. Even Marianne felt heat on her cheeks from all the mulled wine that she had drunk. 

Marianne was, of course, pressed to sing and she only allowed it should her husband play for her. Which of course he did, barely looking at the keys and instead of looking at her as she felt the music, closing her eyes and singing with her heart. Much like the moment that he first saw her, that pivotal moment when he realised that he could actually love again. Now though, she was with him. Truly. He would leave this house and take her with him. Marianne told him she loved him often and with feeling. She showed it. Colonel Brandon pressed his eyes closed to keep the tears from falling down. Finishing the song together he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her ardently. Christopher was so very tempted but did not want to embarrass Marianne. Mrs Dashwood seemed to notice this as the two of them sat, smiling to herself. 

Edward ever awkward and slightly uncertain stood and cleared his throat. “Elinor and I would like to make an announcement.” He looked to her a bit shyly and Elinor gave him a look of confidence that made him smile. “We are to be parents.” 

The room exploded with excitement. Margaret squealed launching herself across the room to her sister and Mrs Dashwood had tears in her eyes. Marianne clapped and Sir John and Mrs Jennings immediately began probing the parents to be. Christopher felt something tighten in his chest, there was a part of him that very much wanted to be a father. It was not the only thing there was but still, he felt a twinge of grief, that he tried to quickly toss aside. He was so very happy for Edward and Elinor. 

The night drew to a close and Marianne took a spare moment to tell Elinor of the incident with Willoughby. 

"Fanny was by yesterday and she said that Miss Grey- Mrs Willoughby was with child, what on earth is he doing running about the city like that?"

Marianne bit her lip and sighed, "I haven't the faintest idea... I just wish to never see him again." She shivered a bit and took refuge in the warmth of Christopher's arms when they said their goodbye's and took the carriage back to their house. Willoughby seemed to have this terrible way of causing a stir even at the best of times. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter is long overdue haha! I am very sorry, life was just getting in the way and unfortunately, I am writing this week to week now as the posts caught up with what I had pre-written. Either way, I am going to try and get ahead again.   
> XOXO!!!

After much talk with Christopher, Elinor and her mother Marianne decided that going to the New Years party at Fanny’s would not be so bad. There were many people that they all knew going and it would most definitely be enjoyable for the most part… at least that is what she hoped. If they were able to avoid Fanny all the better. So the Brandon’s dressed for the party, Christopher in a dark blue waistcoat and Marianne a summer sky blue gown. When they arrived at the party they were quite the couple to see. There had always been a sneaky part of Christopher that worried others would stare at them simply because she was so much more beautiful than he was. Marianne was a treasure and he was an old, sad man. It seemed that had dissipated, she made him feel younger and he had everything he wanted there was little care for what others thought anymore.  

Unfortunately, their plan of avoiding Fanny was not off to a very good start, she was there in the entry yelling at one of the servants to fix a garland that hung by the door and looking very cross at everyone behind their backs. As some bizarre form of luck had it, Fanny seemed to have bounced back nearly immediately after her pregnancy, looking every bit as thin and birdlike as she had before. 

“Marianne,” she called, all fake smiles, “you made it, how wonderful.”

“We did yes,” Marianne tried her hardest to be pleasant. 

“John will no doubt so want to see you if you continue on in someone will take your outer things,” her words were kind enough but the tone of them said it all, there was nothing hospitable about that woman. 

When her back was once again turned Marianne and Christopher shared a glance at one another that said it all and walked into the main part of the house. It was splendid of course, everything laid out perfectly, just as Fanny would, the whole spread looked vastly expensive. She always seemed to want the best and John gave it to her. Marianne made a point to, throughout her life making sure that people knew she was no so shallow just because they had money and not just one that basis either. Marianne never wanted to reach a point where she cared for that more than people or anything that really mattered. Maybe they could do something for surrounding communities when the returned to Deleford. She knew that her husband didn’t live a life like John and Fanny but still there was something in her that wanted to be useful. Not looked at as a mistress with lots of money who sat home all day twiddling her thumbs. She would speak to Christopher about it when she got the chance. 

They made their way to Elinor and Edward who seemed to be in conversation with his brother and Lucy Steel or now Ferrars. The redhead was laughing jovially, it was a wonder how the two of them seemed to work out so well. Though Lucy had gotten her money and Robert was able to have the status of being married. Fanny had seemed to cool to the idea of all the madness that had taken place as now both he and Edward were present at the party. 

The whole situation with Lucy made Marianne want to roll her eyes, she could not imagine marrying anyone for such mundane reasons, to live a life in a loveless marriage was not something she wanted. Thankfully she did not have to worry about such a thing. Glancing up at Christopher she was able to see him greet the others and begin a conversation without him noticing her scrutiny. How she loved every inch of him! 

“How are you faring Mrs Brandon?” Asked Lucy. 

“Very well, and you?”

“Oh, quite well, Robert is gone on business very often but there are times when I see more of him, I am sure you understand that with such a husband like yours.” As if to insinuate that because Christopher had money he was like all the others. 

Marianne noticed that she had left Elinor out of that and wanted to roll her eyes. “Actually, he stays fairly close to home.” She looked over at Christopher in conversation with Robert and Edward. Nearly blushing at the thoughts that graced her mind, what she wanted to do with him later that evening when they returned to the house. 

“He does now,” winked Lucy. 

What on earth did that mean? Lucy was about to continue when suddenly Marianne felt a tug at her arm, it was Margaret, this was her first party and she had been enjoying herself, but now she looked worried. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?”

“Over here,” her sister pulled Marianne from the others and toward a secluded corner. Lucy was no doubt looking very curious at this point. 

“Margaret, what is it?” Marianne demanded of her sister when they reached a more quiet alcove. 

“Willoughby is here. I saw him.” She was a bit out of breath. 

Marianne felt her heart beat faster in her chest, “oh dear, where is Christopher?” She looked about a bit wildly, she wanted her husband directly by her side. Marianne was not afraid of Willoughby but she found strength in her husband's presence. There was something about it that made her remember what she was capable of. He built her up, making her feel all the more herself, knowing what she had been through and how she was going to come out of it. 

The place that he had been formally near Edward and Robert was vacant, they both told her he had slipped away after she left. Elinor seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Lucy no mistake she was only being polite, poor thing after everything. Marianne had sent Margaret to look for Christopher as well. She was beginning to feel a bit of panic, this party, all the people so close to her reminded her of that time before in London and it set her teeth on edge and her stomach fluttering. Then across the room, she saw Miss Grey, or Mrs Willoughby as it was. She was stood next to Mr Martin and with his back turned she could see Willoughby next to her as well, he held a glass of some liquor and seemed to be swaying a bit on his feet. Mrs Willoughby appeared to be glancing at him with a touch of anger it seemed. Martin was only talking jovially with him, both were ignoring the look of Willoughby's wife. 

Marianne began to back away, she did not want to be seen by either of them, when her progress was stopped by something solid against her back. Turning she released a huge breath at seeing Christopher behind her, he looked a bit relieved himself. 

“I have been looking for you, everywhere. The moment I saw him.” He whispered a bit hushed, his hazel eyes did say all and more, that he had been worried, concerned and that he was relieved to have found her. 

Marianne no doubt showed the same in her own eyes. Then a voice called as they were about to head for the other room. 

“Ah, the Brandon’s!” It was Mr Martin. 

Christopher turned first and then Marianne. Both Mr and Mrs Willoughby were now looking at them and Mr Martin seemed to be smirking. Could he know everything? It was very possible, but why would he wish to be so cruel?

Christopher strolled forward, as always holding himself high, Marianne felt blessed for that, none of these men held anything on him. Nothing. “Mr Martin, how are you this evening?” 

“I am well, and you Mr Brandon? Mrs Brandon?"

"Very well," replied Christopher and Marianne also nodded with a tight smile. 

Martin still looking a bit like a weasel nodded, "and this is Mr Willoughby and his wife." 

“We know each other” replied Willoughby with a bit more than a touch of aggression.

From where they stood it was easy to smell the alcohol on his person. Mrs Willoughby looked tired and uncomfortable, she must be very close to her lying in and seemed to need rest. 

“Are you well Mrs Willoughby?” asked Marianne softly, “would you like to sit down?”

“She’s fine,” replied Willoughby for her, “it's been a ...pleasure.” He gave Christopher a long look, then took his wife a bit roughly by the arm and stalked from the room. 

Mr Martin seemed to realise that he would not be looked at happily for what he had done and got out of the room as quickly as he was able to. 

They stared at the blank spot in front of them for a moment, part relieved and part confused. 

“Home,” murmured Marianne, “we shouldn’t have come.” 

On the way home Marianne snuggled in close to Christopher, he wasn’t speaking and his jaw was tight with anger but he held her to him. Marianne was worried for Mrs Willoughby and almost grateful herself that she had seen his true colours or that her fortune had prevented her from being in that very same position. 

As they crawled into bed that night, both very silent and just by sheer need fell into each other's arms Marianne couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Her husband loved her and did not treat her as though she was a property of some kind that, was something extraordinary right there, especially after what she had seen. 

"I love you," Marianne whispered softly, against his chest. 

He made a deep, sleepy noise and kissed her head, "I love you. Are you alright?"

"Mhmm. He cannot affect me now, I only worry for his wife and their child." 

Christopher sighed and his breath tickled her neck, "I cannot say that I don't feel the same, I think I may make some inquiries if I can."

Marianne leaned up, placing a hand on his cheek and looking into his eyes, she could see them though it was dark. "Just be cautious." 

He nodded and pulled her down for a deep kiss, that felt like a promise. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again very sorry for the wait :( I am doing my best, xoxo

The leftover excitement from the holiday had diminished, and Marianne was terrified a bit of going out for the fear that she would see Willoughby. It set her in a cranky mood. February was upon them, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to Deleford, but they had to wait another week for Sir John to finish his business. One morning, in particular, she felt extra cooped up and ended up snapping a bit at one of the servants, this, in turn, made Marianne apologise profusely and proceed to the room and cry.  Christopher had been out, helping Sir John, but when he returned one of the maids told him what had happened. It was so out of the norm for Marianne, but had become more common since Christmas and even more so, since the New Years party. None of the servants were angry of course, Marianne always treated them with kindness and civility they were more concerned for her than anything else. 

Christopher knew that the thought of Willoughby was disconcerting to her, but that couldn’t be the whole story. She had been taking the prescribed items she needed to every day, and they had seemed to be helping at least until the last month, things had appeared to take a decline. Christopher knew that his wishing her to go see a doctor would not go over well, but he was becoming concerned. So mustering up his courage he tentatively knocked at the door to their room, entering when he heard her call to do so. 

“Christopher? Why are you knocking?” She was laying on the bed, in her shift looking as if she had been trying to take a nap. That had been something of the norm now, it was rare that she made it through a day without a rest.

“I didn't want to disturb you.” 

“It is your room as well,” A wet cloth was in her hand, she laid it once again over her eyes. 

Christopher went closer and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up her hand where it lay at her side. “Darling, I am worried.” To his utter surprise she did not protest, only sniffled. 

“So am I… I don’t want something to be the matter, but I feel so ill Christopher, I thought that I was getting better…” she began to cry, carefully he rubbed her hand as she was trying to speak through her tears. “I did this to myself, going out in the rain, it is my fault that I have to do all this now.” 

Christopher sighed and brushed Marianne’s hair back, he hated the fact that she felt that way. It was not so black and white as she made it out to be. “That is not at all completely true, you know that. Now, I think it would be best that I go get the doctor.” 

Marianne pulled the cloth from her eyes, looking nervously at him. 

“That doesn’t mean there is anything the matter, in fact, I think that perhaps it is only stress,” Colonel Brandon really wanted to add that Willoughby, should he continue to invade the life of his and Marianne’s, in fact, invade the lives of anyone that Christopher loves. Mr Willoughby would see an early grave, but he decided to leave that portion out. Instead, pressing a kiss to Marianne’s forehead and taking up his hat from the side table that he had laid it on. “I will send for your mother and sisters as well, perhaps the company would be helpful?” 

“Yes, thank you, I am sorry that these past weeks I have been such a bore. It was supposed to be a holiday, and all I have done is sleep and mop about.” 

“Nonsense, I can have the best time in your company no matter what the circumstances.” He flashed her a sweet smile and headed for the door. 

…

Nearing the street that the physician's establishment sat on Christopher was about to enter when he saw a man with dark hair leaving the pub that sat just adjacent. It was Willoughby. Christopher knew the best way to handle this would be to just ignore the man, but he didn’t want to, and he didn’t get a choice. Willoughby had seen him too. 

“Brandon, we meet each other again,” Willoughby sneered edging closer, clearly intoxicated. 

Christopher knew engaging was the worst thing to do, he was better than that, but for some reason at that moment with worry for Marianne at the forefront of his mind... Colonel Bradon couldn't muster the willpower. This man was filth. “Do take pride in being such a shameful creature? Or does it simply come naturally?” 

Willoughby snorted but didn’t deny what Christopher had said, just took a long drink from the bottle he held in hand. Looking down, then smirking at him with a shake of his head. Those black locks that so many women were smitten by, now were matted and coated in sweat, bags showed under his eyes. The man was very much not what he used to be. “No doubt you aren’t here to patron the pub, posh as you are, what has you out this evening?” 

Sense began to overcome him as he noticed the way Willoughby spoke, his manner teetered very close to deranged. Christopher moved past Willoughby toward the Physicians. “Good day, Mr Willoughby.” He moved very little before Christopher felt a hand grip his shoulder, quickly removing himself from the man's grasp and turning to face him. He did not expect that Willoughby would actually try something here in the street, but Brandon was mistaken Willoughby’s fist connected with Christopher’s jaw, making him stumble back a bit, not ready for the blow. 

This made the man smirk and advance again, but with the impairment of alcohol he was not so stable on his feet, instead swaying and when he swung again, Christopher easily sidestepped, ending with Willoughby trying to keep himself from falling. Christopher couldn’t help himself all the anger and hate that he harboured for this man was hard pressed to be contained, he allowed his own fist to go sailing toward Willoughby’s perfectly structured nose. Blood spurted between Willoughby’s fingers as he held his face groaning. In a motion that was quick especially for a drunk man, Willoughby thrashed an arm wildly, and the bottle in hand broke apart over Colonel Brandon’s forearm, cutting into his skin and causing blood to drip down toward his wrist and droplets to fall on the stones. 

The commotion had caught the attention of a few passers-by and quickly guards were called. Christopher immediately knew that no matter the circumstance this was wrong and he should not be fighting like some uncivilised character, he had stooped to the man's level, shame was washing over him now. Willoughby tried to swing at him again but was stopped by one of the men. It took a moment for Christopher to realise that they were taking he and Willoughby into custody. Any protests he tried to make were futile, and they were both hauled off at that point Christopher knew if he did not go quietly, it would only be made worse. Ashamed of himself Christopher just took solace in the fact that Elinor would send for the doctor and Sir John when he didn’t return. The worry that Marianne would feel was the worst to think of. She had instructed him as he inquired about Willoughby to be careful and until that point, it had been so. This had been different, but no doubt she would not see it that way. So as they reached the holding, they were to be placed it, and he was sat on a bench Christopher allowed his head to fall into his hands. 

…

“What?” Marianne had to grip the arm of a chair to stabilise herself when Sir John told them of what had happened. He had been summoned once Christopher was placed in the jail. 

Mrs Dashwood pulled her daughter into her arms and shushed her softly, allowing Sir John to continue. 

“It seems as though they will only be charged with disturbing the peace, he has to stay there overnight but tomorrow I can pay a fine, and he will be discharged, all is well.” How was it possible for this man to still look pleasant? At a time like this? 

Marianne had a mind to shriek that all was not well, but she held her tongue, she should be grateful for Sir John and what he was doing for Christopher. “Did you see him?”

“They would not allow me, but one of the guards assured me that all was well, there were few injuries and they were seen to."

That did not ease Marianne’s mind in the slightest; still, she nodded, “thank you so much Sir John, I think I must go lie down.” 

“I will make certain that everything is righted my dear,” added Sir John as Mrs Dashwood helped Marianne toward the door. 

“Thank you.” 

That evening Marianne was still awake well into the night, lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Christopher was in a prison, with Willoughby, she had told him to be careful, and she was angry that he had engaged in such a thing. He had always seemed so above such stupidity, but there was another bit of her that secretly commended him. When she heard of the duel between the two before the same strange wash of nervousness, coupled with pride had taken over her. Now she wanted her husband. They had not spent a night apart since their marriage and tonight of all nights she wanted him desperately, to know that he was safe, to be in his arms. 

The door creaked, and Elinor poked her head inside, it must have been early morning, but her sister always worried so for others. 

“Dearest, have you slept at all?” 

“No, I have been thinking.” 

Elinor entered the room and crawled into bed next to Marianne, as they used to. “You know that with the Colonel’s connections and Sir John, that all will be well.” 

Marianne blinked back tears, the unfortunate part was that though she knew that in her mind, she had the fear that all the good would be torn away from her at any moment. Still plagued by the choices she had made in her past and worried that they would only come back to haunt her. Elinor wrapped her arms around Marianne and held her close. 

“Just think, we can be headed back to Devonshire soon and you can start preparing,” Elinor pressed a hand to Marianne’s still flat belly, with a small smile. 

The doctor had been called as well as Sir John, Elinor had made sure of that. Marianne was a nervous wreck as there were being inquiries made of Christopher and where he was, but she had finally been coaxed into being seen by the Doctor. After a bit of conversation and examination, the doctor found that Marianne was in fact pregnant. Something that she had never expected to hear since her health had changed. It had been shocking, and the moment she was told she burst into a fit of tears, Elinor as well and her mother had been a mixture of happy cries. After speaking with this physician it was clear that Marianne needed to take care throughout her pregnancy due to past health concerns, but things seemed to be in order. It explained all the fatigue and changes she had been experiencing over the last month or so. The discovery not only eased her mind on that front but also had Marianne feeling elated with the news that she and Christopher were to be parents. That is until Sir John had returned with more news, this time far less pleasant. Christopher and Willoughby had been in a brawl and were both now taken into custody. It was heartbreaking news. How was she meant to be coping with such a thing? And with the other news as well… 

“I am worried, Elinor… and I am angry. I know that… he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me like this, getting himself into trouble, but I cannot say that I am not disappointed in his actions.”

Elinor nodded, Marianne could feel it against the pillow. “That is understandable, and I believe that knowing him, he is already feeling and thinking the very same about himself. I despair that in fact, he may be worrying himself to the utmost over it.” 

This was a very valid possibility, it would not surprise Marianne to find that Christopher had spent his time in jail thinking and finding himself inadequate. She didn’t believe that at all, as upset as she was about the entirety of the situation it did not change her mind about him or the man that he was. She just wished him home safe, far sooner than later, as for Willoughby there was more hatred inside her for that man than anyone was meant to harbour Marianne was sure. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day beautiful people! <3 
> 
> Can Colonel Brandon be my Valentine??? XOXO!!!

The next day Marianne was exhausted obviously, having been up the entire night or very nearly. Until the early morning when her mind finally allowed her to rest for what seemed no more than an hour or so. At breakfast, she did not want to eat, but Elinor patiently reminded her that it was not only Marianne herself that was needing nourishment anymore. This brought Marianne some comfort, and she found that food actually made her feel slightly better than she had before. Porridge with a bit of honey and milk soothed her stomach and her mind in turn for at least a time. 

Mrs Jennings and Edward came later in the morning, towing Margaret with them. They were all packed up and made plans to depart that day when Sir John would be returned with Christopher. Marianne had made the decision after some thought, that she and the Colonel would leave on the morrow. There was much to discuss not to mention that he would surely need a decent night's sleep before their long and tiring journey back to Deleford. With any hope back to some semblance of normality. 

So even as her stomach flipped and turned with nerves when she heard the sound of a carriage outside, in the late afternoon. Marianne hugged her sisters and mother, wishing them well on their journey home. Making sure they knew that she would see all of them very soon. Marianne called for a few servants to have a meal ready for Christopher in the dining room and a pot of herbal tea for herself, something that may serve to settle her stomach. She had been informed by her mother earlier, that sickness was not always reserved for the morning time. Then Marianne instructed the servants to make themselves somewhat scarce, she needed to speak with her husband a conversation that had the potential to be not the most pleasant, that they were to ever have. However, Marianne was determined to see the talk through... she was still unsure of how she felt regarding all of the situation. 

So as the door to the house closed and filled the hall with an echo of noise, even his footsteps carried through the relative silence of the home, Marianne prepared herself. 

Waiting in the dining room for him, trying to calm herself. As  Christopher entered his movements were slow and deliberate, seeing her sitting at the table, Christopher sagged against the door frame, in perhaps relief? Marianne wanted to keep the calm and collected air that she had been trying at, but seeing her husband all but crumple there. Covering his face with his hand and beginning to weep, was far too much. Marianne stood and went to him, wrapping him up in her arms and allowing him to sob into her neck. All the while she rubbed his back and realised that this was not what she wanted. She did not want to put him through more pain or anger. What was done was done. 

When he had quieted, Christopher pulled back a bit and wiped at his face. “I-I thought that you may have gone… that you wouldn’t… want to-to.” 

Marianne did not let him finish, “Oh Christopher no, no! Come let us sit, I had food made up for you unless you would like a bath first?” She searched his eyes, showing him her own, wanting with all her heart for him to see that inside them was all the love she held for him. No matter what. 

“Food,” he said almost meekly nodding to the table that was already set for him. 

Marianne sat close to him, even scooting her chair over, just to be nearer. “Is your arm alright?” 

It was bandaged but, dried blood could be seen on the white cloth. 

“It is alright, I will redress it, once I clean it.” 

“May I do it? Whilst you eat?” 

Colonel Brandon hesitated but nodded as he began to tuck into his meal, Marianne had the very distinct impression that Christopher was a tumult inside. Before she went to fetch supplies, she leaned down and turned his face to hers, dropping her mouth to his and whispering. “I love you.”

Tears gleamed yet again in his eyes, but he swallowed them back. “I love you, my angel.” Reaching his hand up he brushed her cheek, tenderly with a fingertip. 

They did not speak while she attended to his wound, but some of the earlier tension was broken now. She had stated the most basic thing that he had been worried about, she still loved him. She was still there. When he had finished eating, and Marianne was tying off the new bandage, he turned to her catching her hands in his, bringing them to his mouth where he placed multiple kisses upon them. Then staring into her eyes. 

“I know that no words are able to explain how sorrowful I am. I went against what you asked, I gave into selfish and ungentlemanly desires, that took me from our home and from you in your time of need. It would not be in bad taste for you to want rid of me.” 

“Christopher, stop. My love, it is alright. What you did was improper but… I cannot in good conscience say that it was wrong. I wouldn’t dream of being rid of you, please stop worrying yourself.” She traded, so her hands instead held his, kissing his knuckles. Then standing and pulling him with her, “let us get you cleaned up and perhaps a rest is in order, hmm? We leave for Deleford in the morning.” 

…

Christopher had a bath, and Marianne waited, changing into her bedclothes and crawling beneath the covers. She hoped to get sleep now that he was back in her arms, and she knew he was safe. Still, as he entered he seemed unnerved at the very least, he was worried that she was still upset, or he was even thinking unfairly of himself. 

“You did not want to stay in town longer did you?” 

Colonel Brandon shook his head and donned his sleep shirt before climbing next to her and groaning a bit at the softness of the mattress against his back. 

“Sleep was not so pleasant last evening?” 

“No," he allowed a rough chuckle then pursed his lips turning on his side to look at her, “are you well enough to make such a journey… I know that I was not here... but I am sure that Elinor sent for the Doctor?”

“She did yes, I am fit to journey.” Marianne had thought about how she wished to tell him, there were so many ways, but simplicity was at the forefront of all their relationship, and that would not be mistaken now that was for sure. So she blew out a breath and must have looked nervous since Christopher seemed to become startled at her pause. 

“Marianne is all well? Please, tell me.” He reached out a hand and touched her face, it was the first time since he returned home that he had initiated any form of more intimate contact and that heartened her. 

“All is so well,” tears she knew were sparkling in her eyes as she cupped his hand where it lay on her cheek. “For you, my husband are home, we are leaving the city and…” She pulled his hand from her face to lay against her lower belly. “I am well, not only that, but we are to be parents… you are going to be a father.” 

His face was a myriad of emotions. Everything splaying from surprise to confusion and then to pure joy only minorly touched by nerves. Christopher laughed, it was a short burst of surprise and happiness. Marianne couldn’t help but smile as well and feeling his fingers tense over her stomach made butterflies flutter inside her. 

“I… but there was-” He seemed to not care so much about an explanation at the moment and instead Christopher moved down Marianne’s body kissing her neck and then pulling her shift up, kissed her bare belly, where their child lay beneath. Looking up at her he spoke again, “I don’t believe I have ever in my life been thus thrilled.”

Marianne laughed and touched his hair, “I hoped you would be pleased.” 

“More than that, more than that!” He looked down at her stomach again and laid his palm more firmly over her, there was little to see at present, but soon, Marianne would be showing the signs of their child growing. Christopher could barely believe his utter luck. 

“Come up here,” she tugged at his shoulder so that he would lay next to her. Which he did pulling her back against his chest, one of his hands of course not leaving her abdomen. “We need rest for the journey, my love.” 

“You are indeed, correct, I only worry that I shall wake up and it will all be but a dream.”

“It is real.”

With that thought in mind and with the woman, he loved warm in his arms. Colonel Brandon fell into a deep and contented sleep. 

…

Staggering a bit out of the carriage Marianne pressed a hand to her forehead, it was aching from the bumpy journey no doubt. They had made it to the inn, and that was a blessed relief, all she wanted was to sit down on something that was not moving. Marianne had been hoping that sickness would not affect her, but now she wasn’t so confident if it was the babe or the travel. They had to stop a few time for her to stay at least the dizziness that had taken over her.

Colonel Brandon caught her and allowed her to use him for support. His brow furrowed in worry for his wife as they made their way into the inn for the night. Getting home was warranted but he was not so sure that his wife was well enough at the present time to be travelling such a long distance. He was careful to make certain they had the best room possible, thankfully there weren’t many others travelling it seemed, allowing them more choice then was usually the case. 

Rain had begun to pour outside, and the sound reverberated off the roof of the inn, making Marianne groan audibly. She had immediately taken to laying down on the bed, that was thankfully softer than anticipated… though that could just be her imagination after such an uncomfortable ride. Christopher looked stricken, then leaned down to kiss her forehead, whispering, “I am going to get the trunk of necessities, is there anything else you need?”

Marianne mumbled a no and gave him the best smile she could before laying a hand over her eyes, hoping that the rain would let up and allow her to rest. Thankfully something was listening and when Colonel Brandon returned she was fast asleep. He sighed in relief that at least for the moment she was not in any kind of agony. Removing his waistcoat, he too thought that perhaps a bit of sleep would do him good. Since returning to their home that day, he had to fight a constant battle in his mind and heart, self-deprecation would creep in at moments that he had barely any control. Marianne had been right in the fact that, if the worst he had done was get into a brawl with Willoughby it was small and insignificant in comparison to most of what the man himself had done. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that that wasn’t who he was. Christopher Brandon knew that. Now, knowing that he was going to be a father, that he needed to teach a child made him think of it all the more. Instilling morals in a child, raising them to be good, intelligent and kind adults was no easy task, he wanted to do his very best at that. 

Carefully he laid back on the covers next to his wife and watched her for a few moments. The steady rise and fall of her chest was a happy sight. He was blessed, despite that horrid man, there was so much to appreciate as Christopher knew. Taking heart in that, he placed a gentle hand on her belly, splaying his fingers wide and closing his eyes, he fell asleep. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies! I promise I am working on being more consistent with this story! Anyway hope you enjoy! xoxo

“Is it normal for my back to be hurting so badly?” Asked Elinor to their mother as they three sat to tea at Elinor and Edward's cottage. It had been almost two months since they returned from town, in that time both Elinor and Marianne had been coming to terms with the newfound difficulties and joys of impending motherhood. 

Mrs Dashwood chuckled, nodding, “that is the case often, yes.” 

Marianne tried not to look grateful that she was not, in fact, experiencing that just yet. Though the sickness and food aversions were enough to make her go properly mad. She felt a bit green at least most of the day, there were a select few things that she could actually get down and a constant array of items that sent her dashing from any given room to vomit. She grimaced at just the thought of the eggs she had smelled earlier that day at breakfast. Eggs had prior been a food she could handle until that morning it seemed. There had also been changes she had not expected in her body, the little swell of her tummy, yes, but her breast increasing in size was not something she was prepared for. And they were tender, more than they had been ever before. It had been beneficial to have her mother near and her sister as well, to help her through the things she did not understand, there were many. 

After a bit more chatting Marianne stood. “I had best begin back for the house, Christopher has been so busy with that bridge in town. We are finally, I hope going to have an evening to ourselves. Mostly he has been so tired that we can barely have a short conversation before bed, lest anything else." 

Elinor smirked, and Mrs Dashwood paled a bit at her daughter's honesty. That was something that Marianne had begun to see as well, she did not have time for the niceties of society. She would live her life and love it, care for her husband, their child, be happy. Everything else could fall to the wayside if it was unnecessary. Her mother grew up in a time that fully embraced those concepts of so-called respectability, but the world was changing, slowly but it was. Unfortunately, Marianne and her mother had been in a row or two about it in recent weeks. 

“Mamma,” sighed Marianne as she saw her mother open her mouth to say something. 

“I just do not see why it is necessary to bring up something so… uncouth.” The older woman was clearly flustered, more than that she seemed to take it as a front to the way she had brought the girls up. 

Rolling her eyes Marianne stood running a hand over her belly, to calm herself and make her point. “I do not think that it is uncouth to have lain with my husband. If it is already rather obvious that I have done so. Thank you for tea Elinor.” 

Mrs Dashwood looked on unamused. 

With that Marianne stepped out into the cloudy spring day, rain was fast coming so she best get home quickly. It was not in the slightest that she wanted to argue with her mother, Marianne loved her. It was that she had her own opinions and did not much like being told they were wrong. Neither of them did, and that was precisely the problem as Colonel Brandon had put it only a week before after they had a particularly bad row. Christopher bless his heart loved to hear Marianne's thoughts and opinions on things, even if they were controversial, she loved him the more for it. After a severe thunderstorm knocked out a bridge in town, he had been there dawn until far past sundown helping fix it. He usually came home covered in dirt and mud, Marianne barely had enough time to help him out of his clothes before he was fast asleep. Today the bridge had been finished, and they had planned for a pleasant evening just the two of them. 

As she came over the small hill and Deleford was in view Marianne had to fight to catch her breath. She had thought that it was something she would get used to it, the sight of it. Now that it had been her home for some time. For the life of her, she couldn’t, it was just too breathtaking. As the rain began to lightly trickle down, Marianne saw her husband's figure come step into the light of the doorway. He always did that when she was out in any kind of weather, or it was getting darker. Marianne loved it, it was never because he thought she couldn’t walk back on her own, though she may have once considered so. No, he did it because he cared. More than that, it was one of the fundamental ways that Christopher Brandon showed his affection, he fussed over the things and people he loved most. 

“Hello,” Christopher said as she climbed the steps to reach him. 

“Hello, how is the bridge?” She got up on tiptoes to kiss his lips, then accepted his hand to pull her inside their home. 

Christopher grinned widely, “it is all well and sorted.”

“That’s wonderful!” 

“Are you hungry?” He had taken to asking as the mention of food could sometimes be a gamble. 

Marianne involuntarily pressed a palm to her belly, thinking. “I believe I am.”

This seemed to make him very pleased,  they both went into the dining room to eat their supper. Marianne was able to eat well, something that had been hard to come by recently, it excited her as well as her husband, as they might be nearing the end of her feeling ill so often. It was so wonderful just being in each other’s company it had to have been weeks since this had been possible. Marianne loved that he had been so set on helping the men work on the bridge, but it had worried her, she didn’t want him to get hurt and certainly missed him when he was away, that was a given. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Christopher murmured after they had been sitting in silence for a while when they finished. 

Marianne smiled ruefully, “Christopher, why?”

“Because I fancied it, come.” He held a hand out to her, she took his as he pulled her from the room and once in the empty doorway he kissed her soundly. “Bedroom.” 

This had her grinning, but of course, following eagerly. 

Although Colonel Brandon very much wanted to give Marianne her gift, he possibly wanted more to ravish her thoroughly, it had been too long a time. As Marianne was making no objections to his small touches of caresses, he decided that was the best course of action. So once inside their rooms, he dropped to his knees and began to press kisses to her stomach. This made her beam and yank on his shoulders to return up to her. He did, of course, he was there indeed to please, but also he took a moment to undo the buttons on her dress, walking around when the material pooled at her legs to remove her stays as well. He pressed kisses to the base of her neck, it sent shivers through her and goose pimples to raise on her skin. Once she was completely nude, Christopher wished to step back and take a look at his wife. Her breasts had become a bit larger, something he couldn’t say that he was opposed though they were perfect beforehand. And her newly swelling belly, for some reason made his mouth water, something about her growing their child made him think all the more of her in every way, but at the moment she was the most tempting creature he had ever set his eyes on. 

Marianne blushed under his gaze, kissing him profoundly keeping their lips locked as she walked him back toward their bed. Right before she could push him onto the mattress, he turned her, so Marianne was the one that ended laying half on the bed. She laughed at his smug face and tugged on his clothes, “Off,” she mumbled. 

He obliged, ridding himself of all but his trousers and then settling himself on the floor where he could bury his head between her thighs and begin to pleasure her. Marianne was more sensitive everywhere it seemed and try as he might Christopher couldn’t help but use that. Not that she minded. As always he was an attentive lover, giving her pleasure with his mouth and groaning himself, making her feel such things, that always seemed to be enough to make him hard. 

“Chris-Christopher! I need you!” Marianne had come apart and was panting as she begged him.

Settling himself on the bed after removing his trousers Christopher pulled her back against his chest so she could place a leg over his. She did it almost instinctively, and he smoothly entered her from behind. Mewling at the sensation, Marianne shut her eyes shut tight in ecstasy. She loved her husband so much, the fact that he could make her feel such as this was far more than anything she could have dreamed. The position they were in was somewhat new to her, but she liked it as he thrust into her, she could feel pressure mounting, the muscles in his lean body against hers as he urged in and out of her. 

Christopher attended to her neck as he stroked inside of her, taking his time to lavish attention on her nape with his lips, while reaching a hand around to her bud of nerves. Marianne released a groan of pleasure from the back of her throat. Brandon knew the signs of her release well now, and it was coming on. Doubling his attention he felt her crash over the edge, she took him swiftly with her. Panting he gently moved her to lay next to him, where she peppered kisses to the expanse of his chest, allowing her teeth to lightly graze his skin. Christopher grunted at that in approval. The idea that the act of intimacy was carnal had always been at the forefront of his thoughts regarding the subject, never had he thought that it could be something so much more, something that was instead so vital and nourishing to a relationship. 

“I got carried away, it seems that the longer we are together, the more I cannot keep my hands from you, my love,” he bussed her temple lightly with a kiss and sighed. 

Her giggle, as always a most lovely sound, met his ears, warming his heart all the more. “I am not in the slightest complaining. Actually, I have to say that I am most pleased by it.” Marianne though what she said was correct couldn’t help but think back to the conversation she had with her mother earlier that day. 

He seemed to sense her quiet as being deep in thought, and of course, he was right. “Is it your mother again?” As he asked Christopher began to caress the swell of her stomach, and Marianne closed her eyes, the gesture lulling, relaxing her into a blissful state. 

“Mhmm, just more of the same really.” 

“I know that it is bothersome, but she is your family, and I know that you love her.” 

Marianne opened her eyes at that, “of course I love her, I just wish she might be less… stubborn.”

To that the Colonel snorted, “interesting you say so… I know another woman with a tenacity for being bull-headed.” He narrowly dodged the playful swat that came his way, by getting to his feet grinning. 

“I am not so lithe at the moment Christopher Brandon, but just you wait.” Glaring playfully as his retreating shape. 

“Looking forward to it, love.” 

Turning he went to the wardrobe for her gift she assumed. The man was incorrigible, they had everything that they could ever want, and yet he insisted on doing more. He came back still very much nude with a large box in his hands. Proffered to open the lid and of course, how could she say no? Marianne found beautiful leather, embossed editions of children's books. They were lovely in varying earth tones, with gold or bronze edging. She brought a hand to her open mouth as she looked over the copies. 

“These are so lovely,” she breathed, picking them up one by one and trailing fingers over them. 

Christopher smiled happily, “they were actually mine, I had them fixed up of course.”

Marianne didn’t know what to say so she kissed her husband, teasing the seam of his lips with her tongue, then properly searching his mouth. Trying to pour how thoughtful she thought the gesture into the kiss they shared. Finally breaking away she placed the books back into the box, rubbing her belly with a soft smile. 

“Your papa is going to be intent on spoiling you no doubt. Never fear little one I shall make certain that you do not get too spoilt and end up like your Uncle John and Aunt Fanny’s boy.” Marianne scrunched her nose at the end. 

Colonel Brandon barked a laugh at this, standing to put the box away and on return he looked interested, his head cocked a bit to the left studying her as she lifted her shift over her head, then snuggled beneath the covers. “Do you think boy then?” 

She looked at him from her place propped against the headboard and thought herself, rubbing her belly absently. Christopher made a soft noise of comfort at the feel of the mattress beneath what for the last few weeks had been his aching back. 

“I don’t actually know, Elinor is certain that her child is a boy, but I have no inkling of ours. Perhaps it is too soon to have any thought on such a thing.”

He shrugged and gestured to the candle near the bed to ascertain if she was ready for it to be blown out and Marianne nodded. “I just know that some women have a certain intuition about it, or so I have heard.”

“Eliza?”

“Yes, she has said so.”

Marianne moved close to him in the dark for warmth, and just to be near him. “She needs to visit, little Thomas must be growing so, and I long to see her.”

“I agree, though it seems there is something to keep her, she will not tell me.” 

Marianne’s voice was worried then. “Nothing unfortunate I hope?”

“No, I do not think it is anything of that sort.” 

This seemed to appease her, and for a moment Christopher thought that his wife had fallen asleep. Then she spoke again. 

“If the baby is a boy, I want to name him Christopher.”

Colonel Brandon snorted, “we will do no such thing, the poor lad, he already has the worry of inheriting my sad features."

"Oh hush!" Marianne laughed sleepily, nudging him in jest, right where she knew that he felt ticklish, causing a laugh to erupt from him. 

“This conversation can be reopened at another time,” he conceded, “now rest my love.” 

Marianne did not have to be told and was quickly lost to dreams, Christopher followed dreaming of a little boy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if I apologise for the length of time it will not make up for it, but still ... I am sorry and here is a lengthy chapter.   
> <3 XOXO

Patiently Marianne waited for Sir John to say something, though at the moment she could not remember what. There was a noise outside, and Margaret rushed to the door, then back again shouting that it was Colonel Brandon coming up the small hill toward the cottage. Marianne felt excited thinking of her husband, reaching down she went to rub her stomach. Instead of the bump that she had been used to feeling it was flat. She furrowed her brow in consternation. Before she could think too long on it, there was an abrupt knock at the door, and Christopher strolled in. Sir John made to welcome him as did her sister.

“Good morning," then turning to Marianne, "how’s the invalid?” 

Marianne blinked at him, she felt as though this had happened before. He extended a bouquet to her, and Marianne took in his frowning expression, she was unsure of what was going on. Why was he acting so strange and stiff toward her? Why was she at the cottage and not at home if she was hurt? 

Marianne went to say something, but a bit of fog clouded her vision or perhaps she had fallen asleep, she couldn’t recall. When she woke, she was in the parlour at Deleford. Everything seemed to be righted, shaking off the strange feelings of earlier. Caressing her belly, Marianne picked up the book she had obviously been reading after a moment footsteps could be heard in the hallway. 

“Is that you, my love? I have the strangest thing to tell you. I had a dream of-” Marianne stopped speaking, her mouth went dry. Stepping into the room, smiling was Willoughby. He strode forward as if nothing was amiss, looking every bit as he used to when they had first met. Not like the haggard drunk that she had been privy to since. 

“A dream my sweet?” He asked taking a seat next to her, time seemed to slow. He reached out and caressed her abdomen, and Marianne could not lift her hand to stop him even though she wanted it to.

Finally, she was able to break the strange trance, “wha- what are you doing here? Chris-” Marianne stood swiftly, the book that was laid in her lap fell to the floor. “Christopher where is he?”

Willoughby looked amused as if she was being adorable, and he didn't try to stop her as she began to call through the house, he just followed her. It was all so very odd. 

“Come here, are you feeling alright? Marianne who is Christopher?” Willoughby pulled at her arm. 

“Colonel Brandon where is he?” She was nearly in tears, this was all wrong what was happening? 

Willoughby chuckled nervously, “dear,” he murmured his tone becoming not at all nice. “Why are you bringing up that man?”

“I want him! Tell me where he is!” Marianne was shouting now, Willoughby caught her before she could go very far and pulled her toward him, harshly. 

“You are speaking nonsense love,” the words were kind the way they were delivered spoke volumes. “I know that you haven't been feeling well, perhaps you should lie down.” It was not a question, he began to pull her back to the parlour.

“Christopher!” She screamed. 

Willoughby stopped abruptly, turning to look at her fiercely. “Stop this! Why on earth are you calling out for  that long-dead man?”

Marianne’s eyes became wide, “wha- he isn’t…”

“You know full well that I killed the old fool in that duel,” scoffed Willoughby, running a hand aggressively through his hair. 

Blanching Marianne stumbled, then everything went black. 

This time when she woke, sat bolt upright in bed, sweat covered her brow and her breathing was heavy. Pressing a hand to her chest, over her pounding heart. Marianne closed her eyes, swallowing hard. There was a rustle behind her and an arm wrapped around her, easing her back against a warm firm surface. Marianne exhaled through her nose slowly, her body relaxing against Christopher’s familiar chest. 

“Another dream?” He rumbled close to her ear, the light outside the window was dim, obviously early morning. Marianne reached back placing one palm on his cheek. 

“Yes,” she breathed, running a hand over her belly. It was rather large now. At the moment she could feel the baby moving, their little foot pressing against her hand. She had been having the most realistic dreams, sometimes they were good and other times confusing or scary. It had been often recently that she not only woke herself at various hours of the night but also poor Christopher up. “It was so strange…”

“Hmm? Tell me perhaps it will help ease your mind.” Christopher's breath tickled her as he pressed small kisses over her neck and shoulder. 

She was calmed by the slow movements of his hands rubbing her upper arms. “Well… I am not sure really. It was the time I fell and hurt my ankle, the time you brought me a bouquet…”

“Ah,” Christopher hummed, “ interesting that would come up.” 

“That was atrocious of me you know?”

He nuzzled her neck asking, “what do you mean?”

“I just brushed you off, when obviously you had gone out of your way to not only look in on me but bring me flowers. I cannot understand how naive I was.” It was such a sad reflection.

“We were all that once, don’t think on it too much love.” Christopher absently played with his wife’s hair. 

“I must have made you feel dreadful though,” Marianne adjusted so she could lay propped against the headboard and see her husband. Smoothing her hands over their child, she chewed her lip. 

Christopher sighed then, he didn’t much like to think back to that time, or really any other time in his life. There were little happy memories before recently. “Yes, I cannot say that I wasn’t hurt.” 

“I am so sorry.” It was a whisper, “I did not realise or even think what I was doing. I wish I could go back and shake that silly, utterly stupid girl, tell her-” 

Brandon stopped her with a kiss, “Marianne,” he murmured pulling back a bit, staring into her eyes. “It doesn't matter anymore, frankly at the time I didn’t dare dream that you would ever want me, I expected what occurred.” 

“Well, I wish it hadn’t.” Marianne wiped a tear that had begun to trickle from her eye, looking away from him, she was so emotional about even the smallest things. “I don't think that I can go back to sleep.” 

Christopher hummed then. “I think that I may be able to help you relax, no sleep involved at all.” His smirk was a bit contagious even breaking through the sadness that Marianne felt. Christopher ran a hand over her belly lovingly. “Marianne the past is just that, here and now that is what I am interested in. You are here with me. Not just that, you care and show that you love me every day. You are the mother of my child, I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

…

“I wish you did not have to go.” Marianne sounded miserable even to her own ears. 

Christopher hung his head as he packed his trunk, “it is necessary Eliza seemed desperate, though she did not disclose what vexes her and that worries me greatly.” 

“It does me as well, but I should be going with you at least,” ever since the letter arrived the day before this had been a back and forth debate between the two of them. Over the last months, Eliza’s letters had been more and more worrisome, she seemed to think that Colonel Brandon was becoming a stranger to them as he was not able to leave as often due to his wife’s condition and his want to be with her. Marianne felt uncomfortable about this, she wanted Christopher to see them, but something in the manner of Eliza’s letters were strange and demanding.

It was almost a groan that escaped Christopher, “I would very much prefer that you join me, but in your situation, it would not be prudent.” It was only two day’s ride, but there was still the worry in his mind for her. 

The tension that had existed between them since they received the letter seemed to come to a peak. Marianne sniffed, she had not even a month before the baby would arrive, but she too did not wish anything to go wrong. A journey even not so far away would be worrisome. Not to mention that Elinor was already past the assumed time for her delivery, it would be any day now, and Marianne could not miss it. 

Marianne was beginning to feel more and more nervous about the impending birth of their own child. Christopher leaving her even for a short time was concerning, though she knew she was most likely only being ridiculous. Marianne cared for Eliza, but she wondered what was so important that she would request Marianne’s husband from her like this. “I know,” Marianne finally replied, “I am sorry, love, you need to go. I understand that I want you to go to Eliza, she needs you.” Marianne really did mean it, with all her heart, but it did not make it hurt any less. 

The tears that began to leak from the corners of her eyes had Christopher making two steps to her side before enveloping her in his arms and holding her close to his chest. He thought he felt physical pain in his chest at the sight of her so utterly sad. He did not want to leave her… he could not. The feeling of his child's prodding where her protruding belly was pressed against his side further tore at Christopher's heart. What if something happened? He swore that he would be there for them… his family. Colonel Brandon had spent most of his life taking care of others, it was in his nature to do so. He had also sworn to take care of Eliza, the daughter of the woman he had once loved. He now knew the love of a different, fuller kind, it encompassed him, possessed him in the best way. That was when he made a decision, Christopher could not leave, it would break him. 

Releasing Marianne he hurried to the desk in their room, removing a quill and parchment. He began to scratch furiously, so focused on his task that he did not at first hear his beloved inquire as to what he was doing. 

“Christopher? Did you hear me?” 

Finally, he looked up, folding the paper he had been scribbling, “I did not, I apologise.” He looked a bit sheepish his cheeks stained with pink. Usually, he was more apt to go find a servant than ring the bell, but he actually did ring it this time. “I have written a letter to Eliza, and I am sending someone to pick her and Thomas up, to bring them here.” When a maid arrived, he gave them instruction and sent them scurrying off quickly. 

“Are you certain that is a good idea?” Asked Marianne, nibbling her lip in worry, absently stroking her stomach. 

Christopher placed his hand over hers and nodded, “yes, I need to be here, I know I need to be I have spent so long worrying about everyone and neglecting the two of you is not something I ever wish to do.” 

Though her heart swelled at the thought that she would not be without him, Marianne still worried. Eliza needed something and what was it? How strange that she had not stated it in her letter originally. They had a long walk in the garden that evening. Christopher spoke of how good it would be to have Eliza and Thomas there when the baby was born, Marianne nodded. Of course, she thought so as well, but there was a feeling of unease that she could not quite place. 

It was only a few days later, well into the night that a  messenger arrived at Deleford with a note from Eliza. It stated that they were preparing to leave for Deleford and Thomas had taken ill, they could not travel, and the doctors were worried for the boy. Christopher leapt from bed immediately upon receiving it, calling on servants to ready a horse for him. He was in a state at the thought that he had delayed this long, in going to them. Something overtook him at that moment, he was always there for Eliza except when Willoughby entered her life Christopher had been distracted or inattentive. Yet again someone was suffering, due to his misstep. 

“Of course, I should have known… how could I have been so utterly-” He cursed himself pulling on clothing quickly. 

Marianne pushed herself off the bed and tried to help, but Christopher was in such a state that she only seemed to be getting in his way, so she held back. Biting her lip and wishing there was something she could do to be of aid. 

When all was ready, she followed him from the room and to the entry. 

“When will you be back?” It was meant to be an inquiry, but he seemed to take it as impatience. 

“I have already made a grave error. I cannot say what will be needed, or the time in which it will take.” His voice was almost put out, Marianne had never heard him speak as such, especially not to her. 

Still, she knew that the stress he felt must be weighing on him heavily and brushed it off. “Please, write to me when you arrive so I know that you-”

Colonel Brandon cut her off, “yes, of course, so you know that I made it.” 

This was shocking, to say the least, he never acted so ever. “Christopher, I know that you are in a hurry, but I don’t want- what I mean is that I worry that you are not your-” 

“Marianne I must be on my way,” he had been frantically waiting for his horse to be brought around, and now one of their servants Benjamin had the horse just outside. 

Stunned and hurt Marianne nodded, “Indeed. Travel safely, my love.” 

Christopher’s face softened slightly, and he gave her hand a squeeze before turning and rushing down to his horse. Marianne stood in the doorway staring after him, wondering what exactly had happened. 

Christopher was well away from Deleford when he realised the behaviour he had exhibited toward his wife and the fact that he had not kissed her goodbye. 

…

Marianne had just been able to fall asleep perhaps an hour or so before when Anne one of the maids rushed in. Causing Marianne to jolt awake, then clutch her head as it throbbed, she had been worrying the rest of the night after Christopher had left, it had been taxing. 

“Pardon me mam, but Mrs Ferrars has requested your presence. I believe the midwife has been called from town as well.” Anne smiled at that. 

“Oh!” It took a moment for the realisation to dawn on her, then Marianne got to her feet as quickly as she was able, frantically moving to the dressing room. Elinor was going to have her baby, a good thing too as it was at least two weeks later than was expected. After ensuring that she was wearing something that was easily moved in and plain Marianne went to the cottage straight away, she was going to walk, but Anne insisted on the carriage and Marianne agreed. 

Her mother was already there when Marianne arrived as she had been staying at the cottage near the parish for the last few weeks, thinking the baby was to come any day. Rushing inside, Marianne could hear her sister’s voice in the other room as well as her mother, Edward was sat in the small parlour, looking pale. 

“Good- uh good morning Marianne.” Edward stumbled over his words and stood to greet her. 

“Oh Edward!” she exclaimed, rushing to him, with a great smile on her face, “remove that look of worry this instant, you are to be a father.” 

He chuckled nervously, but nodded with a small smile, “yes, I just fear for her.”

“I know,” Marianne gave him a watery smile. 

Sitting back in a chair, Edward looked behind her at the door. “Is your husband going to be joining us? I could use that man’s calm manner and conversation. It would be a blessed distraction.”

Something turned in Marianne’s belly, and it was not the infant that she carried. The thought of the events the night before were brought back, trying hard she smiled. “Unfortunately he was called away just last night.” 

Edward nodded, “not for long I hope? It would be unfortunate should he not be there when the baby is born.” 

That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, and yet Marianne realised that could be a real worry. It was growing nearer and just as Elinor had been late to labour Marianne could be early, though hopefully not too much so. “I should think he will be back very quickly, Eliza’s little Thomas has fallen ill, he is to see to them.” Marianne had no idea when he would be back. 

“I see,” Edward then jerked his head toward the bedroom, “you know her Marianne perhaps better than anyone, make as best as you can for her to feel comfortable.”

“I will.” 

…

A birth was not what Marianne had thought it would be. She was not so naive to believe that it was easy but seeing it first hand was something else entirely. It was long hours that she and her mother helped the midwife and Elinor through her trial. The first bit was merely slow, and there was much waiting, but when the pace picked up, it did. Soon the pain that Elinor experienced seemed to nearly overpower her. Her cries were more frequent and every step of the way Marianne grew more and more worried for her sister. How did women go through this? It was clearly something that no one with little strength was able to endure, yet they were deemed to be the weaker sex? Even though she was doing nothing even close to the extent, her sister was Marianne was exhausted from being on her feet for hours and just seeing her sister in such a state of distress. 

Going often to check on Edward, Marianne did her amplest to soothe the poor man. Though there was not much for it. Her brother in law couldn’t eat and was barely able to drink tea. Marianne herself was a mess of nerves as her sister suffered, fear for her own impending delivery weighed heavily on her mind. Hours past, and still there was little change until finally, the midwife insisted that Elinor begin to push. Marianne’s lovely sensible older sister who was so strong broke into more tears as she did as ordered. Marianne stayed just next to her wiping her brow and whispering encouraging words into her ear. Finally, a cry that was not Elinor’s filled the room, the midwife and the Ferrars’s maid rushed to clean the baby. 

“Oh Elinor,” whispered Marianne brushing her sister’s damp hair back. “You did so well.” 

Elinor couldn’t speak but she nodded a soft smile on her lips when the baby was laid in her arms she began to weep silently. Kissing her sisters head and taking a long look at her nephew Marianne went to fetch Edward. When the little family was together, and the midwife had given both she and her mother instructions did Marianne finally sit down. She felt a bit faint and very fatigued but was so happy that her sister was safe, and so was her new nephew. 

Mrs Dashwood appeared next to her after a while, Marianne looked up at her mother who had concern on her face, “Marianne do you feel alright?”

“Just tired, I did not sleep much the night before last.” 

“I think that is would be best if we call for one of your servants to bring you back home. You need sleep, and I am sure that the Colonel is anxious to hear the news.” 

Marianne realised then that she had not told her mother that he was away. She had wanted to be there if a note arrived that he had made it safely to Eliza, though it was early for that yet.

Suddenly realising that she needed to go home, Marianne stood too quickly and swayed, her mother caught her and called for the maid, asking her to go to Deleford and send the carriage. After sitting down, Marianne felt righted again and was able to fall asleep there in the armchair. Roused when the transport arrived she was helped inside, with her mother saying that she would be there to look in on her a bit later. This soothed Marianne’s mind as she knew it was merely fatigue that had caused her to feel this way. 

There was no note from Christopher, and a sense of sadness took over her heart, even as it was what she expected. She had truly upset him it seemed, she should not have been so upset at his leaving, she should have forced him to go in the first place, and now he must blame her it appeared. No doubt she deserved it, foolish as ever it seemed. 

There was a small part of her that still had a hope that was not the case, but it was slim and it even more so as a few days later Christopher sent word that he was with Eliza and Thomas, that he would not be back to Deleford for a week if not more. It seemed the little boy had been playing around the horses, causing him to fall and break his arm. An infection had spread after a few days, and he was very ill. There was a chance that the little boy would not be able to fight the illness. Marianne’s heart ached for Eliza, she had not held her child yet in her arms, but there was little doubt in Marianne’s mind that she would not die herself should something happen to her baby. Then there was Christopher, his letter had been very nearly brusque and unfeeling. Marianne wept for him, for her upsetting him, then she wept for Eliza and Thomas. Hiding her sadness as best she could from her mother Marianne tried to think of how happy she was that Elinor was safe and that was no longer something that must press on her mind. Marianne wrote Christopher of the news, wishing Eliza and sweet Thomas well. 

It was a little over a week since Christopher’s letter (to which her reply she had received nothing from him) that Marianne woke late in the morning as she had begun to do so late in her pregnancy to a small pain in her lower belly. It was not intense, and it was common to get pains of the like every day or so, she thought nothing of it. Going about her morning having breakfast, taking to sitting out in the garden, summer had made the grounds of Deleford even more beautiful. Something panged in her heart at the thought that Christopher may regret having her as the mistress of the estate, she brushed it off, could she really have upset him so badly? It was eating away at her even then. Sitting there pondering this another pain plagued her. It was stronger than the last, but as before it did not linger or come back. 

Awhile later there it was again. Marianne began to worry somewhat, she hadn’t had them with so much repetition before. She stayed in the garden most of the day, hoping to see Christopher riding to the house, it did not happen. Her pains were still spread apart, but more frequent than was the norm and Marianne decided that it was best to call a servant to fetch her mother and a midwife to acertain that nothing was amiss, it was still a couple of weeks early. When her mother arrived Marianne had genuinely begun to worry, Mrs Jennings had also come, much to Marianne’s dismay as she noted over and over the absence of Christopher, and how odd that was. Irritated and slowly becoming more and more distressed as they waited for the midwife who was called away on another birth, Marianne had a harder time holding her tongue. 

Mrs Dashwood did her best to calm her daughter and keep some of Mrs Jennings more ridiculous comments at bay, but it only worked for so long, and she too was missing the Colonel’s presence as he seemed to have a way of calming a tense situation, especially when Marianne was involved. The midwife arrived in the evening, after some routine checks she revealed that Marianne was in the very early stages of labour. Nothing was amiss the infant was just going to be a bit early, everything seemed to be moving along smoothly. She encouraged Marianne to rest, it would still be some time for the baby would try and make an appearance. The midwife left then to see to her other patient, noting that she would be back soon. 

Marianne felt fear grip her heart at this news, she did not think that it would actually be happening. Elinor was sent for, but it was possible as she was still recovering that she would not be able to come to the house. Christopher was not… no, oh god Marianne could not think on that, or she may well go mad with anxiety. Her mother sensing fear asked Mrs Jennings politely is she would find a servant to make them tea. The woman, happy to be needed left the room, Marianne was instantly in tears, in her mother's arms. 

“I- oh mamma, I don’t think that I can do this… I saw Elinor-what she went through,” just as she sobbed this, a pain overtook her. 

Mrs Dashwood shushed her, “it is normal to feel this way my dear, breathe. We still have some time yet, let us go get you into something more comfortable.”

…

It was well into the night, Marianne was doing her best to rest between pains, though sleep was not to be had no matter how badly she wanted it. Her sadness for the lack of Colonel Brandon’s presence had turned instead toward anger. Marianne knew that she should not feel as such, Eliza needed him, he had been worried, but in Marianne's state of anxiety, she could not help but be put out by it. Their child would be born, and he would not be there when it happened. 

Elinor and Mrs Dashwood were asleep in chairs near the bed. Elinor had arrived with little Jacob earlier. 

After her thoughts had been drifting some more there was a feeling of water rushing out of her, Marianne gasped causing both of the other women in the room to wake. Mrs Dashwood went to fetch the midwife from the separate room, and Elinor helped to dry Marianne while a maid placed new sheets on the bed. From then on, everything was a bit foggy, bogged down with pain. Helped through by her mother and Elinor, Marianne forged on. She did as she was told, going through the motions, crying out, gritting her teeth as birthing pains came and sinking back into the bed as they went. Finally, when it was time, and she was told to push Marianne did not think she had the strength, she lay limply in bed all her energy gone and with so little sleep she just shook her head at the midwife’s pleas for her to push. 

“I cannot Elinor, I cannot,” Marianne began to weep, but the need was overbearing. Marianne used what was left in her to bear down, then fell back. She could feel the sweat dripping back into her hairline, Elinor wiped her brow and kissed it. 

Encouragement from her sister had Marianne again able to push when asked, this time the scream couldn’t be kept at bay. She wailed, then moaned again as she pushed another time then another. Marianne wept as she rested her head back against the cushion under her head, her breathing heavy, she could do little but wallow in the agony she felt. 

“One more,” called the midwife. 

With a cry, Marianne pushed as hard as she could and sound filled the room. Panting and with tears still running down her cheeks from the effort, Marianne felt disoriented as a warm slightly damp thing was placed against her. Then when she looked down and saw her baby the tears were for a very different reason. She was barely able to give the baby over to be cleaned as she did not want to let go. Elinor who was wiping her hands on her apron smiled at her sister. 

“You have a beautiful daughter my sweet,” Mrs Dashwood murmured to Marianne as the baby cleaned and swaddled was laid back in her arms. 

Only able to nod rapidly Marianne brushed fingers over her daughter’s soft cheek. Marianne had always assumed that it would be a baby boy for some reason, but now nothing felt more right than the tiny infant girl in her arms. The midwife urged Marianne to begin feeding the baby after all was settled. Elinor and Mrs Dashwood, as well as the midwife, left Marianne to bond with her newborn, going to inform the rest of the house the good news. Mrs Jennings was no doubt in a state waiting, and Edward had arrived as well, he was asleep in a chair in the parlour his own son in a cradle nearby being watched over by one of the older maids. Eventually, everything becoming more settled Edward and Elinor went back to their home, Mrs Jennings to hers. Mrs Dashwood stayed, holding her granddaughter when Marianne bless her heart was finally able to sleep here and there. It was in one of the moments that Mrs Dashwood had time to think that she began to consider where her son in law was. 

It was so unlike the Colonel that he had gone away knowing that Marianne could have the baby soon. It irked Mrs Dashwood. 

The sun was setting, causing the sky about Deleford to be glazed in a warm glow when Colonel Brandon rode up to the house. He was exhausted seeing Eliza in such a state, trying to calm her as well as seeing to the doctor and all that was needed had been taxing. He had not slept much at all for the time he had been away. What plagued him were worries for Marianne he had been callus in his leaving, and he knew it. He could not bear to think of what detriment he may have caused, he reacted cowardly. Deciding to forego sending her a letter for fear that he would be told that she did not wish to set eyes on him, or something worse than his imagination had presented him. 

Thomas was finally stable, and Christopher had been able to take leave of the country back to Deleford. Christopher didn’t know what to expect or how he would be received, but walking in the door to see his mother in law, with a book in the parlour was a bit unexpected. The look on her face was even more so. 

“Is all well?” She asked very curtly when she noticed him. 

“It seems that Thomas will make a recovery,” Christopher replied, he shifted on his feet nervously. "His health will be fragile for a time though, it seems."

Mrs Dashwood nodded, looking back at her book. 

Before he could ask after Marianne, perhaps Marianne wished to leave, and her mother knew of his stupidity. Mrs Dashwood spoke, “you have a daughter, Colonel…”

Christopher’s jaw almost hit the floor at her words, he was ready to rush up to his bedchamber, anguish gripping at his chest. 

“She and your wife are sleeping at the moment, perhaps clean yourself up from your journey and then they might be awake to see you.” There wasn’t to be an argument. 

Bowing his head in shame Christopher nodded, he had missed it. He had a daughter and his Marianne… had been without him for it. “All is well?” he asked weakly. 

“Yes. She was a wee bit early, so she is a small baby, but they are both healthy.” Mrs Dashwood smiled at that, “I am going to retired, wake me if I am needed,” she murmured to the maid on her way out of the parlour. 

In a guest room, he asked a servant to bring him water. Washing up as best he could Christopher then made his way to their bedroom, trying not to dwell too long yet on the result of his choices. There was candlelight inside, he knocked tentatively, though the door was partially open. 

“Mamma?” Marianne’s sweet voice floated to him, and Christopher swallowed hard. 

Pulling some of the courage that he had not been utilising it seemed Christopher pushed the door open fully and said, “no, she is resting.” 

Marianne’s head came up, blue eyes staring at him. “Christopher?”

He could not see inside the bundle she held as the blankets blocked from view, he did not dare step closer. Again shame took him over almost entirely. He wanted to apologise, beg for forgiveness and yet all words stuck in his throat there was nothing he could say that would make this right. “You are well?” 

Her face hardened if slightly, and she looked back down at the bundle, “yes. We are just fine.”

Christopher wanted to break down into tears, he had indeed made the most significant error imaginable. Marianne seemed to see this, sighing she beckoned him over. “Come meet your daughter Christopher.” At least he knew she would not deny him that, though it was most certainly what he knew he deserved. 

Tentatively he pulled a chair next to the bedside gazing down at the tiny infant in Marianne’s arms. The baby was asleep, and she was absolutely beautiful. His chest was tight with so many emotions, and no longer could he keep them at bay. Christopher broke down, beginning to sob into his hands. Marianne closed her eyes and reaching a free hand to stroke her husband's hair, he had meant well as he always did, but it did not make the situation any more convenient.

“Oh- my Marianne- I- I am so utterly sorry… there is no excuse- I-”

“Shhh,” she shushed him, they could talk of it all at a later point at the moment that was not most significant. 

Lifting his chin she placed a chaste kiss to his lips, Marianne was still upset, but the conversation could wait, at the moment he needed to meet his daughter. 

Clearing his throat, Christopher tried to compose himself and pushed a bit of the blanket back to reveal his child more clearly. “What is her name?”

“I was waiting for you to return to finalise it, but I was thinking of Juliet, Paulina, or perhaps Rosalind.” 

Christopher gave his wife a watery smile, all names from Shakespeare. “Beautiful names… I cannot say for certain which as I do not know her yet.”

Marianne nodded her head in concession, “I agree, perhaps we wait a while then?”

He nodded reaching a finger out he brushed the wispy golden hair. The infant opened her eyes then and looked at him; they were a piercing blue and Christopher’s chest panged and his heart beat fast. He felt so wholly inadequate gazing at his daughter, though he did not have the time to contemplate that on it for long. Marianne shifted the baby into his arms, cradling her head until he held her securely. She was so tiny lying in his arms, her little mouth open slightly, eyes still tracking his movements. 

Despite her somewhat wounded spirits Marianne couldn’t help but admire the scene in front of her. It felt as if everything would most certainly be alright, eventually. Christopher murmured his love to the little girl softly for a time, rocking her back into sleep, the little girl just as her mother soothed by his voice. 

Adjusting herself against the pillows further Marianne tried her best not to grimace, she was sore and still exhausted. Christopher noticed and tried to keep his voice steady as he asked, “are you feeling alright?” 

“As well as can be expected I would say, mostly tired. I did not sleep much in the past day.” She gave him a rueful smile. 

He hung his head at this. “Marianne-”

“How is Thomas?” 

“On the mend, he is expected to make a full recovery… Eliza was beside herself, I do not know that I have ever seen her in such a state, not even after Mr Willoughby refused to see Thomas. It was strange, and I worry for her, I left Benjamin and hired another maid to see to them. Eliza seems not to be herself...” It was true there was uneasiness in his mind at her actions, her persuading him to come and insisting that he stay so long when she knew of Marianne, he had felt so utterly torn. 

Christopher glanced up from his sleeping daughter to look into his wife’s eyes, pleading with her to speak plainly with him. 

Marianne sighed understanding, manoeuvring to slide from the bed and take her baby to the small cradle near the bed. “I have fed her, and she will sleep for a time, perhaps we can ready for bed.” She did not look at him as she did this, rocking the little girl softly; Marianne laid her down. 

Then ambling back to the bed, Elinor had been right, she would not feel like herself physically for a while at least it seemed. Christopher had not moved, he was watching her. When she could tell that he didn’t plan to ready for bed, she sighed again and sat facing him. 

“Do you blame me for your delaying in going to see Eliza?” Marianne looked down, toying with a loose thread on her nightdress. 

“What? Of course not! How could you think that?” Christopher was aghast at the possibility that she had considered this. 

“The manner in your leaving Christopher,” Marianne couldn’t keep the edge from her voice, but she softened after a moment, they would truly get nowhere at all with blaming. “I know that you were concerned for them." 

“And yet my concern turned to abandoning my family, and being callous to the love of my life.” Christopher felt miserable inside. 

“Eliza and Thomas are family as well… I know that Christopher, your purposes were good, of course.” Marianne reached out and took his hand, placing it in her lap and playing with his fingers. “I cannot say that I do not feel hurt from it all, that said I understand and if I had been in your position I do not know that I would have found an easier choice, I am not sure there was one.” 

Tears began to run from the corners of Christopher’s eyes, and he shut them tightly, speaking through gritted teeth. “I missed the birth of my first child. I was not there for you… god in heaven.” His voice was filled with agony and Marianne could not take it. 

She sat in his lap and despite his feeling that he didn’t deserve her attentions Colonel Brandon held her to him as she stroked his hair. “Everything went wrong. The timing was not what we imagined, there was no-”

“I could have had the decency to write another letter! Or better yet kiss my wife goodbye, before I left her… my lovely wife.” He looked up at her with teary eyes, “how can you stand to look at me, I should have been here.” 

“My love,” It was the first she had addressed him as such since his return, an endearment that was usually regularly present on her lips. “I believe that this beyond both our control, you are home and our daughter and I are both healthy and safe. We should not dwell further.” And Marianne meant it. “Promise me this, if something is on your mind, if you feel anxious of something, just speak plainly with me, yes?”

All he could manage was a nod, pressing his face into her bosom, his tears soaking into her shift. 

They stayed there until the room was so dark that a candle was needed to see anything. When Christopher had readied himself for bed, and Marianne was plaiting her hair, he stood over his daughter's cradle watching her sleep. Her features were very like Marianne, so utterly perfect she was. 

“What of Olivia?” He murmured still looking at the baby. 

Marianne almost startled him as she came up behind him, placing her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Yes, it suits her.” 

Facing his wife, Colonel Brandon placed hands on her cheeks and kissed her, pouring his love into the kiss, pulling back he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XOXO!!!!!!!!!!!

Christopher woke to the soft sounds of an infant's whimpering. That was a very new occurrence that he never had until that point experienced, it filled his chest with likewise a joy he had never known. 

"Shhh," he heard Marianne coo to the baby, "your papa rode a long way yesterday, he needs rest." 

"If I need rest you certainly need it more," Christopher rumbled, blinking his eyes open to see that it was morning. Taking in the view of Marianne feeding Olivia and directly, his heart felt full to bursting. 

Marianne giggled, "well you must have needed some sleep, she was wailing a few hours ago, and you didn't even stir," she grinned at him. Placing a loving touch of her hand to the baby's downy head. 

"Did I really sleep through it?" the Colonel was not usually a light sleeper. Following his time in the army, he woke at the slightest of noises. Leaning over to kiss his wife, he brushed his thumb over his infant daughter's cheek, as she had her breakfast. 

"Did you not sleep well, while at Eliza's?" Marianne glanced at the letter the maid brought up early that morning, it sat on her bedside table, it was from Eliza. She was waiting for him to wake, but Marianne could not help, but worry what the letter would say. 

Sitting up against the headboard, Christopher smoothed hands over his lap. He was still not comfortable with what had transpired, even if his wife seemed to have forgiven his blunder. "There was much that had to be done, no, I did not sleep deeply or often." 

Frowning Marianne leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing. She needed to tell him that letter came, but she was worried about his reaction. Might be best to be done with it, she thought. "This came, early." As she reached for the letter, Olivia pulled away, whimpering at the loss of her breakfast. "Shhh, shhh Oh, it's alright sweet girl." 

Christopher took the letter all while watching the beautiful scene in front of him, Marianne coaxing the baby back to feeding, with an innate gentleness and their daughter responding with little fuss.  

When Marianne noticed his watching, she blushed realising that it was possible he wouldn't want to see such a thing. "If this offends you, I can feed her in the nursery." She was just honest, as Marianne had no idea how men felt in that regard. 

Christopher looked at her, startled, "no, it doesn't, not at all." Colonel Brandon knew that many men found the idea of their wives feeding their children to be unsettling, he was not amongst that populace.

On the contrary there was something so very intimate and beautiful about it. As if to prove his point Christopher captured Marianne's lips in his for a moment, when he broke away, he leaned down to kiss Olivia's head. She was genuinely, next only to his wife, the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. He stayed like that, alternating between kissing his wife, or his daughter until Marianne moved Olivia to the other side tapping the letter he held, Christopher had almost forgotten about it. 

He cleared his throat feeling apprehension at the thought of what it held, "Eliza has not been herself, whilst I was there it was very strange." 

Marianne decided it was best not to comment on it, only humming that she had indeed heard him. The petty part of her held Eliza somewhat responsible for Christopher not being there for Olivia's birth. Though she wasn't sure yet if that was wholly true. 

When he had finished reading Christopher passed her the letter, Marianne shook her head. "Just tell me, love." 

"She wishes to come to Deleford. Once Thomas is well, to see the baby and something about talking with me about an item of business, it seems. She could not when I was there. Once again, all if it appears somewhat cryptic." 

"How do you feel?"

"Concerned." Christopher's brow furrowed with worry, and Marianne could see he was thinking hard about how to approach this situation. "It would be a different thing if she was acting like herself…"

"Well, think on it. There is not a massive rush as Thomas will not be well for a few weeks at least, take some time to make the decision, and whatever you do decide, I will support you." She pecked his cheek, lifting Olivia to her shoulder to burp her and righting her own nightgown. 

Christopher gave her a soft smile, "thank you, for being so understanding." 

She only squeezed his hand, then moved to place the baby against his chest, speaking to Olivia. "How bouts we let papa see you with those pretty blue eyes open for a bit, yes?" 

He looked down at his daughter, and her eyes were most definitely opened to him, staring at him trying to understand what she was looking at. 

"Would you mind if I bathe?" Marianne asked after a moment, biting her lip "she will most likely fall asleep in a moment or two, she seems quite content." Marianne brushed the baby's head. "Or I could call for a maid-"

Waving a hand, Christopher replied, "take the time you need, love, we shall be right here." 

Getting up very slowly Marianne realised that if it was possible, she was sorer than the night before. It no doubt looked most undignified as she made her way to the dressing room so she could ring the bell for her maid to fill a tub of water there. Turning just before leaving the room to see Christopher whispering softly to the baby made every ache and pain she felt worth it and then some. 

After washing up, Anne helped her into a fresh nightgown, the thought of stays at the moment, making Marianne nearly want to faint. Marianne made her way back to the bedroom. She found Olivia asleep and Christopher gently rubbing the child's back, it brought dampness to her eyes. He noticed his wife after a moment, his own cheeks showed tear tracks as well. Christopher placed his hands on Marianne's cheeks as she leaned over them and kissed her mouth. 

"That's your baby," she whispered. 

Choked by emotions he could not respond only nodding, and allowing Marianne to carefully pick Olivia up and lay her in the cradle. Christopher watched his wife's slow movements and knew that it was time to ask questions about what she had been through whilst he hadn't been by her side. Although men were not usually privy to such things should she have wanted him to be with her, he would not have questioned or complained. Frankly, that is what he would wish for, to be at her side. 

"What is needed to be done today, love? I fear that I have been told to do little but rest for some days. Anne said that my mother had to check on Margaret this morning, I am sure the house has been functioning decently though I fear I have been less attentive than usual." Marianne prattled on a bit worried that she had been neglecting her duties as mistress of Deleford until he hushed her. Placing a finger to her lips. 

"Everything will be just fine, you have been busy with far more important things. I am going to freshen up a bit, but if you permit me, I very much desire to take over as your servant, in whatever form that would be." Christopher made a silly grin, and Marianne laughed. 

"Are you certain?"

"Yes!" Kissing her quickly, "I will be back soon." 

…

Christopher did freshen up but returned to the room without his typical waistcoat and with his white shirt untucked. It seemed he did indeed mean to stay with her and Marianne would not complain, she had been reading but smiled up at him as he came to join her in the bed once again. It had been a long while since they both stayed in bed this late into the morning. 

"Are you hungry?" 

"Oh, yes, very!" Marianne blushed at her eagerness, but Christopher only chuckled, getting up to go down and retrieve food for them. 

This time when he returned, Marianne seemed to have dozed off but woke when she heard him, despite his being quiet. The breakfast was a simple, but hearty spread, eggs, ham, toast and some summer berries, as well as tea. 

"Thank you," she murmured after a few bites, kissing his lips. 

"Marianne," he started, "I hope to hear about Olivia's birth… that is if you want to tell me." Christopher's stomach twisted, did he really deserve to hear?

Marianne held a strawberry by its stem to his lips, bringing him back to the present. Christopher took a bite and Marianne finished the strawberry. "What would you like to know?"

"Were you in absolute misery?" He had to ask. 

She chuckled without mirth, "it was challenging. Though now," she looked to the baby in the cradle, "it seems a bit less so." Marianne thought for a moment as if for the first time really looking back on it, it had only been less than two days, but it felt like longer now that she had Olivia's needs to attend to. "I have never done something so challenging before, but Elinor was so wonderful. I only wish I could have been just as helpful to her."

"I am sure that you were just as accommodating."

"Perhaps, but it is different after you have experienced it, I had expectations of what would happen, even after seeing Elinor endure it. I found that it is very personal." Marianne mused, biting into a piece of toast and chewing lost in thought. 

"I am going to continue to apologise, I wish I had been there, if not right by your side outside of the door." Christopher murmured, kissing Marianne's head. 

She looked at him a bit shocked, "you would have wished to come in the room?"

"If you had permitted it, yes." It was the truth, why could he not be there? It had always seemed ridiculous to him if men cared for their wives and the children they were delivering at all wouldn't they wish to see them well with their own eyes?

Marianne pursed her lips, thinking. She knew that this was uncommon, though not wholly unheard of especially in more impoverished of society. "I believe that would have eased my mind marginally, perhaps with the next one." Grinning at his startled face. 

Christopher blushed a bit. Her wanting to have another of his children sent a thrill through him. 

Just then, Olivia began to whimper. "Perhaps not for a while though," she smirked, surprised when he pushed her lightly back into the bed and went to retrieve the baby himself. 

…

"Have you decided what you wish to tell Eliza?" Marianne asked a week later as they sat in the parlour. 

Christopher was holding a sleeping Olivia against his chest while reading. He looked up, "I will invite her here when Thomas is recovered, Only if you consent my love." 

"I should think that is suitable, it would be best to know what exactly is going on." It was still bizarre, Eliza's actions. 

Colonel Brandon nodded, "then I shall write to her, tomorrow." Then he settled back into reading, occasionally kissing the infant's head. 

Marianne watched her husband and daughter. Christopher had taken to Olivia immediately and she to him. Now sometimes when Olivia was fussing Marianne wouldn't even be able to calm her when it was her papa she wanted. Marianne had a feeling that when she grew older, the two of them would be the best of friends. 

Marianne was healing well, and now able to move more freely, short walks when she felt up to it and various average tasks as well. This made her so happy as she had begun to grow impatient with her inability to do day to day tasks. As helpful as Christopher was, she liked to be able to do things on her own. 

As much as she had tried to make him understand that all was well between the two of them, Marianne felt a distance still. Christopher was punishing himself; it seemed despite her attempts to make him understand that all was well. When she did try, he very often changed the subject or made minimal comment. Not only that, but it had been common since their marriage that the two of them conversed for a few hours before bed, recently he had very little to say. At first, she had the worry, that he was indeed not as happy about the baby as initially thought, quickly she realised that was not true. He adored Olivia and doted on her. It was something else, and Marianne decided that she would give him time. Even as she had grown more temperate, she still could not wait long. 

When she was confident that Olivia was napping deeply enough not to be disturbed by more conversation, Marianne started, "Christopher?"

"Yes?" He stayed where he was, as not to wake the sleeping baby, but he set down his book. 

Marianne looked down at her hands, toying with her fingers nervously. "Is something the matter, Christopher, if there is something I can do to… to make you feel less anxious, I will… I only want you to be at peace." 

He blinked, "I am perfectly content my love. Why do you worry for me?"

She set down her needlepoint and walked over to him, crouching down so they could look into each other's eyes. "You are not acting yourself. You do not wake me with kisses, or want to talk as we so often have… If you feel that I need to change something, please do say so, and I will only tell me."

Christopher's hazel eyes went wide, if there had not been an infant in his arms, he would have taken her into his embrace and kissed her with a fervency that showed her just how much he did not feel as she said. "Not at all. My Marianne, you are perfect… If I have given you a reason to even think these things, I have been utterly remiss." 

Marianne couldn't help but be relieved and her face showed it as Christopher spoke again.

"I did not wish you to feel after everything that I have forced my affections on you, or that I was overstepping after my actions..." He looked away. 

"Oh, you silly man!" Marianne kissed him hungrily, showing with her action that she did not hold him in contempt. 

"I fear that we must be united for whatever Eliza is to bring, I worry that the past shows it may not be pleasant news." 

Christopher gave a sad smile and nodded, "I believe you are correct in that." 

Marianne took up a place next to him, and he read aloud to her, they talked no more on the subject of Eliza that night. 


End file.
